


The Outcast

by spa_ghetto



Series: Occult [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angels, BAMF Colby Brock, BAMF Sam Golbach, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Demon Summoning, Demonic Sight, Demons, Did I Mention Angst?, Domestic Fluff, Fairies, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Magic Rituals, Mermaids, Mild Sexual Content, Oops, Panic, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Colby Brock, Protective Sam Golbach, Recreational Drug Use, Small Dose of Marijauna, Unrequited Crush, Werewolves, Witchcraft, a few deaths actually lolol, brief return of sam and colby 1.0, cause there will be lots of that, fluff fluff, minor drug addiction, probably, supernatural drugs though, the best kind, we love to see it, xplr - Freeform, you'd think i'd know what to tag 3 books in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 131,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spa_ghetto/pseuds/spa_ghetto
Summary: Colby Brock is an intermediate—Sam would argue that he's advanced—witch with a few impressive battles to his name: A werewolf; a demon of Goetia; former High Priest of the Coven of Los Angeles, Casey Claiborne. Now fully submerged in the world of witchcraft, he's quickly becoming a person to watch out for. Let's hope, for his sake and his friends', that he can also become a person not to mess with.Sam Golbach still has his demonic Sight, and hestilldoesn't know why. Every time he feels like he's getting closer, a new surprise is thrown in his face. He's becoming more confident in his current ability, but now he's got a new power to deal with! And a new temptation strung by a man with pretty eyes…In the mess of them trying to strengthen their magic, keep their group from expanding any more, and protecting those closest, there's a danger lurking in the depth of Los Angeles. It's a threat not only to witches, but to the entire supernatural world. It's a target on their backs. It's the driving force that will put relationships to a test like never before.It's a classic Good Guys vs the Bad.Who will win?Place your bets now, but be careful.It's not all black and white.
Relationships: Colby Brock/Sam Golbach
Series: Occult [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1348843
Comments: 93
Kudos: 95





	1. last first chapter :'(

The Stanley Hotel, despite whatever Sam thought, was entirely coincidental. A happy accident, really. Marcus hadn’t known this beautiful stranger and his friends would be staying the same weekend as him, but he surely made his week. 

They, he meant _they_ made his week. 

… No, he didn’t.

He was there for business, though. Business. Business. Business. He only had a night to gather enough souls to hold them over for the month, and he still needed a partner to aid him. If only Sam were magic, he would’ve been perfect. Or maybe if Colby was alone, that could’ve worked too. Maybe one day.

There _was_ a witch by the name of Weston, though, with red hair and a vocabulary that held too many elegant words to match his American accent. He’d been spotted a few times, mostly parading around the grounds with Colby and another unnatural-hair-colored boy trailing behind. They stopped into the black market beneath the hotel, and Marcus knew that would be the perfect time to strike.

He waited until Colby and his friend separated from the man before he moved in for the pitch. Effort wasn’t really needed. A few intriguing words, a quiet reveal of his true self, and Weston accepted his offer.

Marcus took off before Colby spotted him. 

Why, you may be wondering, was this important now? Weeks after the boys had already lived through their eventful experience?

Well, it’s simple. 

That was the beginning of Marcus Pierce’s descent.

•••••

When Corey rose from his bed, the room dimmed like the Shadow Man himself had invaded his vision. Black spotted his eyes, beginning in the corners first and closing in for the final blow like death itself. His mouth fell open with a protest he didn’t have enough breath to voice. The darkness flashed around the room; it faded in and out. He caught Sam a few times nearing the door, oblivious to the panic behind him.

“I can’t,” Corey breathed on a strangled gasp of air that made his cheeks burn. He pressed his hands to his chest and collapsed on his bed. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” The words rolled out of his mouth like sandpaper across his numb lips.

“Corey!” Sam cried. He rushed back to the bed. “Corey, Corey, hey.” he squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be fine.”

“No we won’t,” Corey snapped. “How can you say that? It’s a fucking demon! We’re going to die!” He pulled at his sleeves. His chest heaved frantically. “Holy shit, I can’t breathe. I think he’s already here, bro.”

“He’s _not_. The salt’s still there.”

“Why the hell are we trusting fucking salt to protect us from a motherfucking demon?!” Corey shouted. “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!”

His frustration lingered like a bad taste. It made their stomachs turn uneasily. A deafening silence fell over that was only interrupted by floorboards in the living room moaning softly, reminding them that they weren’t alone in the apartment.

Sam’s hand dropped from Corey’s shoulder. He leaned away with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Corey apologized. He focused on deeper breaths for a few moments before continuing, “I’m just scared.”

“I know.” Sam swallowed thickly. “I know exactly how you’re feeling right now, and I really wish you didn’t have to do this.” 

Sam watched him with a surprising amount of authorization and comfort, like he was about to lead them into war. Actually, that may not be too far off. He didn’t even look afraid about facing whatever stood on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” he said softly, “listen, I know how scary this is, but you can do it. You’ve _got this,_ Corey. You’re the only one who can push it away. These things feed off of fear, so don’t give it to him.”

Corey rolled his eyes. “Don’t give it to him,” he repeated with a scoff. “How am I supposed to _not_ be scared shitless? How are _you_ doing it?”

Sam shook his head. “Months of practice, I guess. I know how they work now. Cowering away and hoping they leave you alone _can’t_ be your only option. You can’t always let them win. They’ll overpower you. Eventually, you have to fight back.”

Corey leaned away and looked over Sam, like his friend just stepped into a new light. Who _was_ this guy, brave and confident against the supernatural? When did he take over? Sam’s never been a _coward_ , but used to, his boldness stemmed from his skepticism. He couldn’t be afraid of things he didn’t believe existed, but now? Where was he drawing this courage from?

“How do I do it?” Corey asked quietly. “How do I walk out of here as confident as you?”

Sam sighed deeply, then he jumped to his feet. He pushed his shoulders back and raised his chin. “You have to stand tall, always. You have to become a wall they _can’t break down_. Everything you say, even if you’re seconds away from vomiting, has to be spoken with as much confidence as you can muster. Just, you know… fake it til you make it.”

Corey huffed. He couldn’t believe he was betting his life on _fake it til you make it_.

“And hey,” Sam added, “remember that you’re not doing this alone. I’m here. I’ll even do most of the talking.”

Corey didn’t respond. He stared at Sam and shook his head in disbelief.

Sam shifted back. “What?”

“I just can’t believe how different you are. Trap House Sam would’ve never done any of this.”

Sam slowly retreated to the bed. He tucked one foot under him and sat next to Corey.

“Early Trap House Sam would’ve never believed it,” he chuckled. His smile slipped away as he thought back a few months. “Late Trap House Sam was in your position; he couldn’t imagine ever standing up to ghosts and demons.”

Corey watched him. “Must’ve been hard,” he guessed softly. “How long did you deal with it alone? When did you tell Colby?”

“I told him during the TFIL trip in Australia, so,” Sam sighed, “I had it for three months.” He picked at his nail beds and stared at the comforter. “There were things in that house, Corey. Over the years, more showed up. At first they were scattered, but then I got the Sight, and then they were all in my room. Always. I hated sleeping in there.”

“ _That’s_ why you were always in Colby’s room?” Corey snickered. “We guessed you guys were fucking long before you even came out.”

Sam’s mouth fell open with a shocked chortle. He shoved Corey’s shoulder as they shared a laugh.

“Well, you weren’t wrong.”

The amusement and chuckles subsided slowly, like a dull ringing. Soon they were quiet again, each reflecting on the memories in their old home.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more back then,” Corey apologized quietly. “With all the shit I’ve been through with,” he waved his hand toward the door, “all of this, I should’ve been more open to the idea of you seeing this. I mean, _I_ see things sometimes. I just brush it off because I don’t want it to be true.”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I get it. I know I sounded crazy, claiming to see dead people and everything.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t believe me either. I’ve come to terms with this, though. I clearly pissed off the wrong people, and now I have to serve my time.”

“But it’s not _fair_. I played with the Ouija board for the first half of my life, and nobody ever gave me the demonic Sight.” Corey huffed.

“You’re being haunted by a demon,” Sam laughed. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” 

Sam inhaled deeply. He glanced between the door and his friend, and he smiled softly.

“You ready to tell the Shadow Man to fuck off?”

Corey dissolved into a weak smile. “Never thought I’d hear those words.” He pressed a hand to his heart. He tested his breathing with a few inhales. His heart beat faster than normal. No matter how many pep talks he received, Corey would still be afraid. The faster he accepted that, the easier this would be.

Whatever they’re about to do was going to be terrifying. It would probably haunt him for a while, but this encounter was long overdue. This needed to happen, he knew it.

“Yeah,” he decided finally. 

“Before we go out there, we need to prepare for Plan B.”

Corey nodded slowly. “Okay, but… do _you_ know how to draw it?”

Ten minutes later, Sam stepped out first with a fistful of salt in his right hand. He moved forward slowly, scrutinizing the apartment with every step. He strained his ears and listened for signs of life—or well… you know.

“Do you see him?” Corey whispered. He followed close behind, the bag of salt clutched to his chest with his hand shoved inside, ready to launch an attack if needed. His eyes darted across his living room. “I don’t.”

Sam squinted. Movement to his right stopped him in his tracks. He watched the kitchen with bated breath.

“What?” Corey whispered. He followed Sam’s gaze and stumbled to a halt. The kitchen doorway was shrouded in darkness that didn’t belong there; it wasn’t that dark in the apartment. 

“Do you see him now?” Sam muttered as he wiped his free palm against his pants.

“Uh huh.”

Sam slowly stepped in front of Corey. He raised his chin. “We know you’re here,” he announced. “We can see you.”

  
  


O̷̘̥̻͈̙̘͓͉̾̔͌f̵͔̩́͒̄̕ ̸̡̩̫̞̤͙̍̌̂̇͜͝͝c̸̡̢̡̧̫͕̩̟̰̦̿̌̈̈̏̋̽͠ȏ̶̧̢̬̫̠̠̟͎͇̥͑̋͒̚͠ṵ̸̮̙͎͕̼̃̊̓̂̐r̷̪̫͆͒̽̄̀͐ṡ̷̜͓̯̟̬̌̃̓̄̈́̈̚é̷̡̬̘̟̺̰̉͆͌̏͜ͅ ̶̻̪̜͚̔̿̕y̸̡̹̣̺͍̝̻͔̅̍̂̈́̕ọ̷̡̢̻͈̞͖̀ụ̶͚̯̩͍̫̔͛͆͜ ̸͈͕̩̤͈̰̌͌̎͘̚c̷̨̡̢̛̪̜̞̫̭̹̆̽̅̚ͅa̸̘̖̫͐̋̈́͜͜n̶͓̥̤͚͖͋̄̓̄̔.̶̨̙̒̑ͅ

  
  


It mocked them; Sam rolled his eyes.

“What’d it say?” Corey whispered.

“Nothing important.”

The shadow made a noise that sounded like a growl and a scoff.

“What do you want with Corey?” Sam demanded. “Why are you here?”

There wasn’t a response this time. Instead it shifted down the wall, away from its corner and closer to the TV. When it lost its shadowed cover and revealed its full form, Corey gasped. The Shadow Man stood, in all his glory, at seven or eight feet tall. It couldn’t fit on the wall standing up, so its broad shoulders curved where the ceiling met, and its glowing red eyes glowered at them from above.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispered.

“Holy _shit_ dude!” Corey cried.

Sam’s hands balled into fists. He raised his chin and held his glare.

“What do you want with him?” he growled. “Say something, coward!”

“Sam!” Corey snapped. “Don’t call a demon a coward, are you crazy?!”

When the Shadow Man spoke, his words rolled off his tongue in a low hiss.

H̸͚̞̜̗͖̝͙́̈̄̂̋̐̈́͜é̵̢̞̣̤̙̯͈͔̯̖̅̀̅̄̄͝ ̵͕̲̱̻͒̊͋̇͂͋̅̿͝į̶͎̮͖̗̏̃̊̾̎̅͝͝s̵͎̖͍̖͖͕͉̫̒̍̉̽͌̽̌̅͝ ̸̡̺̮̮̳̒̅́̑̾w̶̡͍̞̘͋͌̅̈́e̴̛̤͈͛̃̔̽͗̓͛̎̕ȧ̵̖̤̳͙̮̯̣̖͑͜ͅk̸͚̩̭̺͇̘̒͑̋́̒̈́̔̕͝ͅ.̵̧̩̗̠̻̝̙̖̑̌̊̈́̌̇̊̚̚̕

  
  
“He said you’re weak,” Sam translated softly.

“And he’s right,” Corey agreed with a huff.

The creature cackled.

Sam shook his head. “No, no, he’s _wrong_. Corey, tell him to go away. Tell him off.”

His phone vibrated in his back pocket repeatedly. Over and over and over and––what could possibly be so important right now? He scowled. As he switched his phone to silent, he glanced at the name. Fifteen texts and counting, all coming from Hailey. It made his mouth dry with nerves, but he forced himself to ignore her for now. She can wait a few minutes.

The Shadow Man’s cruel laughter echoed in Sam’s ears. Its body stretched across the ceiling with long fingers reaching for Corey. It hissed and mocked him. It growled threats and mercilessly teased him.

Corey couldn’t hear any of it, but his shoulders sank under the weight. His hands pressed to his chest as his breathing hitched.

“Sam,” he whispered, “bro, I can’t––”

  
  


Ş̵̞̖̮̠͚̳̳̗͍̄p̶̡̬͑͊͂̐į̸̧̟͔̫͙͍̓͊̎̊̒͌́̇̈́͝n̴̬̱̂̾̈́͗̀̓̓͝͝ë̵͔̱̫̔̀̐̅͊̄̔͠ĺ̶̛̟̖͖͇̰͎̳̈́͊ĕ̶̼̞̖͉̩̻͇̞̫́͗̿́̒̈́̐̚ͅş̴̨̫̏̋͛͛s̴̡̤̥͍̫͎͓͌̅̈́͜͠.̶̹͇͇̠̀̏̌͆̑͒́̐̚̚

  
  


Corey ran his fingers through his hair and stumbled away from the darkness looming over the room.

“I can’t breathe, Sam. I can’t do this, I can’t…” He clawed at his chest and gasped for air that couldn’t reach his lungs. The room spun. He fisted his hair. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled over without hesitation.

  
  


Y̶̊̉͜ơ̸̡̡̬̹͈̣̜͕̿̅̾̍͆̕͜ṳ̶̜̯̲͓͈̩̱͖̈́̏̚͜'̶̰̲̇̊̈́ḽ̵̛̪̹̯̹̌̈́̔̉̑́̕l̸̳͋ ̷͎̞̖̗̣̩̩̒͒̾̈́̎͛n̶̜̙̘̔̑̿̃̈́̿̈́̉̚ę̷̡̯̮̩͓͎̗̥͍̄̅͑̓͌͠v̷͎̙̖̭͉͉̺̮̪̩͒͋̒͋͝è̶̛̹̭̖͗͐̍̓̈̕͘͠r̴̹̈̚ ̶̰͖̳͈͐̾̊̑͂̅̃͜b̷̢͉͙̤̳̱̥̊̊̾̕ḙ̴̮̰̿̓̓̿͘ ̷͙̤͈̹̘̭́̒̅̈̇̈́̀̕͝͝r̶̨̡͚̬͈̹͓̱̥͝i̶̡͚̰̥͖͔̰̘͇͆̀̾͑d̵̗͍̘̹͕̯͎͗̎̍̒ ̸͈͕̤̘̭̞̖̺͆̔̈́̑̕̚͝ȯ̶̡̜̝̱͓̞͗̊̑̓͛̚̕͝͝f̵̢̼̙͖͔̈́̒͌́̔͘ ̶͎̺̹̜̖̦͙̤̀̕͝m̴̛̛͖͇͙̠̮͛ē̷̗̤̦̱̤̟͊̓͗̌̅͠ͅ,̵̡͓̗̼̝͍̻̘̿͌́̎͐ ̵̻̥͇̞̙̑̌̿Ć̵̨̥͉̖̞͖̦̮̹͊̈́͝o̷̦̯̬̘̜̦͉͂r̵̞̋̆é̵̹̱̀̈́̾͛͗͠ỹ̶̹̳͔̙̫̹ ̶̰͓̦̞͓̻͎̻̮͘S̶̲̠͚̟̩͎̬̽͂́̊̌̀c̷̢̡̲̮͓̬͉̭̞̟͂̇͆̃̆̀͛̕͝h̶̢̓̈́e̷̳̖̭̘͋̾͆́̀͂͜ȓ̶̞̘͛͂̑ȇ̸̤̯̺̮̞̱͂̉͛̉̚͝ͅͅr̶̨̦̬͇̬͙̼͉͉͌́̉̊̈́̓̕͝.̶̨̭̣̦̹̗̝͍͖̊̎̈́̀̄̑̔͊̚

  
  
  


“Get away from him!” Sam shouted. He launched his fistful of salt toward its lower shadow pressed against the wall. It recoiled in surprise, retreated a few feet back, and shrieked. 

“Sam—”

“Corey!” Sam turned to grab the bag of salt. “Plan B, go!”

For a split second, they had a silent conversation with their wide eyes. They were both afraid, but one was better at hiding than the other. Sam hugged the bag of salt to his chest. He nodded a few times for reassurance.

“Go,” he urged. “I’m right behind you, dude.”

Sam dug his hand into the salt. “Fuck off, dickhead!” he shouted as he threw another attack. Behind him, Corey bolted for the bathroom.

The Shadow Man peeled off the wall, and the living room dimmed immediately. The blinds snapped shut. Whatever lights in the apartment flickered violently.

Sam’s stomach dropped as one by one, the apartment’s lighting exploded. Everywhere he turned, sparks poured down like acid rain. His shoulders hunched forward, and he threw his arm over his head.

“Oh _shit,_ ” he muttered. Slowly, he raised his eyes.

The Shadow Man stalked toward him at a more reasonable height, but his entire being was a black hole. He wasn’t black or darkness; those were too light. This demon was a… a void. An empty nothingness that made Sam’s heart sink with dread.

As he neared the human, he chuckled lowly.

I̸̡̗̻̟͔̰̓̑͘͜ͅ'̷̨̡̖̪͎͈͂̂͌̊͘m̵̨͎̎ ̸͔̹̖̝̼̘̤̞̣̋̉ͅg̵̘̮͇̲̮̀͊̉͒o̵̥̳̼̞̤̯̭̣̳͆͛͘͜į̷̯̮̭̩͍͇͈͌͒́̌̽̏̚̚͜n̶̨̨̛͈̟̬̳̞̘̯̔̀̀͘̚g̴̤̋́͌ ̴̗̦͚̳̥̥̝͍̳͈͋͛̉͐̚ṱ̶̡̛̘̓͛̇͆͗͒̽ô̵̞̰̘͔̤͎̝̑͆̃́́̕͝ ̷͎̲̭̻͙̃͛͆͗̇e̵̥̫̮͙͍̟̫͇̐͐̈́̃̋̅̆́n̸̨͓̩̳̟͈͇̅̉͐̈̆̚͜͝ĵ̶̢̢̠̝̹o̵̮̬̬̘̠͙͈̊͆̅͠ͅy̴̧̥͈̅́͗͑͂̚͘ ̸̫͕̬̤͔͖̆̾͋͜t̷̫̳͑͂̈́̓̀͋͊͊̓͆ĥ̵̼̞̠͉̣͊̋̊̋̑̑̏͑͠ḯ̷̙̮̬͈̰̈̊̏̓̄͛ͅs̵̛͍̞̪̱̈́.̵̠̮̝̾́̽̉͌̍́͝

  
  
  


Sam stumbled back. He dipped his hand in the salt, ready for another attack. He only had one shot at this, but… he only had to make it to the bedroom.

“Wouldn’t count on it!” he sneered. In a quick motion, Sam pelted the creature with salt before taking off down the hallway.

The Shadow Man screamed like a banshee on fire. It was on him in seconds. A suffocating weight clung to Sam’s shoulders just as he reached Corey’s bedroom. He narrowly missed being pinned to the door and darted across the floor. Sam was careful to leap over piles of clothes in front of the bed that weren’t there before.

Just as he landed on the bed, nails dug into his wrist and sliced through his skin. Sam immediately cradled his arm and howled in pain. He would’ve fallen off the other side had his reflexes not grabbed the bed sheets before he rolled over.

Corey raced through the doorway. “Did it work?!” he cried. His mouth fell open as his eyes settled on the captured being a few feet away. It was just as he always pictured, but at the same time, it was much worse. Corey’s fingers hooked around the doorframe as his body swayed back. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his demon, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Sam couldn’t respond immediately. He lay curled in a ball, arm pressed to his chest as he attempted to ease the stinging pain on his skin.

Beneath him, the Shadow Man screeched with frustration and anger. It paced, kicked, punched an invisible barrier that refused to budge.

Finally, Sam lifted his head. He watched the demon struggle inside of its cage. Its efforts to escape shuffled Corey’s discarded clothes out of the way. The markings of a quickly drawn Devil’s Trap were revealed.

He smiled weakly. “It worked.”

“ _Holy absolute fucking shit,"_ Corey whispered. “That’s… He’s the…”

Sam rolled off the other side of the bed. He made his way over to Corey as his gaze stayed on the Shadow Man. In his haste to reach the bed, Sam dropped the bag of salt on the floor. Maybe that was the best place for it.

“Now we have another demon problem,” he realized with a heavy sigh. “Goddangit, these guys are so hard to get rid of!”

“Like evil mice,” Corey joked weakly. His stomach churning; he was definitely about to puke.

“We’ll get Hailey and Colby to help. Hopefully, he won’t be here for long.” Sam squeezed his shoulder. Then, he gasped. “Oh shit, Hailey!”

He and Corey made their way back into the living room while Sam read his messages. The further back he scrolled, the faster his throat closed up. He stumbled to a stop, all pain in his arm forgotten while he felt his world spin.

Corey looked back at him. “Sam?”

When Sam raised his chin to meet Corey’s gaze, Corey’s heart plummeted. The color had drained from Sam’s face.

“What?” he demanded. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “Hailey and Jake and… and Colby––They're in trouble!"

•••••

_tick… tick… tick…_

At that time, that moment, time did not exist. In the cold clutches of fear and surprise, their lives stood at a complete standstill. Their hearts, however, pounded in their chests like a metal building beat with baseball bats. Blood rushed through their ears, the loudest noise to drown out short, frantic breaths of the hostage with a knife to his throat. He was only a few feet away, out of arm’s reach but still close enough to grab if they moved fast enough.

Behind the victim stood Casey Claiborne, crazed brown eyes wide with sick amusement. He grinned with all of his teeth showing, lips stretched into his cheeks so tight that it probably hurt. He loomed over his prey like a demon, dark and chilling; his tainted energy sucked the air from the room and left a struggle to breathe. He dipped his head, pressed the blade of his knife closer to the boy’s neck, and chuckled as a drop of blood rolled down his throat.

Reggie’s head fell back with a hiss of pain. His body jerked, shoulders rolling forward and feet stomping against the ground as he tried breaking free of the iron hold on his body.

Casey growled and quickly slashed the knife across Reggie’s bicep. Blood poured out of the cut and splattered against the floor.

Across the floor, Jake, the youngest of the group, gasped. He rocked on his heels, tears in his eyes as he met his older brother’s gaze. There were so many things he wanted to say, to do, to explain, god, he just wanted to explain before it was too late. He wanted to confess everything, to apologize for lying, to admit Reggie was right about his “illness” being more than an illness, to tell him he loved him, _fuck_! This couldn’t be how things ended! He couldn’t lose his big brother! Not now, not like this!

“Colby, dude,” he begged.

Next to him, Colby tried weighing his options. He could barely keep his focus with all the thoughts rushing through his head. Casey wanted to exchange Reggie for Hailey, but they couldn’t let Hailey leave with him, and they also couldn’t let Casey kill Reggie. Casey overpowered Colby and Hailey combined, so fighting back was useless. Negotiation seemed unlikely as well; the deranged glare in his eyes proved it. Fucking hell, what were they going to do? His palms were sweaty; he wiped them against his jeans. 

“Tick tock boys,” Casey warned. “I’m growing impatient. Either hand her over now, or later after this boy’s bleeding out on the floor.”

Hailey Claiborne watched through the space between Colby and Jake. She shifted her weight, so most of her body remained hidden from view behind one of her friends. She distracted the sickness in her stomach by sending urgent messages to Sam, hoping somehow they can help from the outside. He wasn’t responding, but she was relentless, blowing up his phone with useless texts to divert her attention from her abusive husband trying to drag her back to the hell she _only just_ escaped from. She’d worked on finding her strength, becoming her own person… hell, she just vanquished the last of his demons only ten minutes earlier! Literally! How dare he waltz in here with a hostage and blackmail her into running back to his side? How dare he use tactics that he… that he knew would work on her always because she couldn’t stand the idea of someone getting hurt because of her…

_tick tick tick_

“I’ll go with you,” she decided.

“Hailey—” Colby tried.

“If you promise to leave them alone, I’ll go with you.” She squared her shoulders.

Her phone vibrated in her hand multiple times, like Sam was returning the favor. It rang softly. She didn’t look, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Colby did. She saw the way his face softened, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists. He only confirmed her suspicions: Sam was trying to get a hold of her. Colby didn’t look that concerned and caring for just anyone. They had yet to make up from their recent argument after the mysterious ritual, and she’d be damned if they never got the chance because she decided to be selfish.

Casey shrugged. “I suppose that’s a deal. Marcus only cares about one of them anyways.” He smirked at Colby.

“Hailey, you can’t,” Colby begged. “After everything you’ve been through, don’t let him win.”

“It was a nice idea, but this was how it would always be.” Hailey smiled sadly. “Thank you for taking me in. You’re a good friend, Colby.”

She inhaled deeply and pushed past her barrier. As she moved across the floor, her world became increasingly silent and numb. She briefly made eye contact with the stranger released from Casey’s grip as they passed. He nodded in thanks, even if he didn’t understand who she was or why she was important. That’s okay, though. Just knowing she helped was enough for her.

Behind her, she heard the vague noises of bodies colliding in an aggressive hug between brothers. She heard relieved exchanges and soft, confused questions squeezed into pockets of air.

She couldn’t help being jealous of that stranger. He got to go home, safe and sound, surrounded by people who truly loved him. She was walking away from the first safe place she’d found since first moving to LA, and for what? A stranger?

 _Friends_ , she reminded. She was doing this for her friends.

But… why did she have to give everything up for them? For him? Why did he get to choose her sacrifices?

Casey beamed at her. He reached for her hands, eager to pull her back into his embrace and never let go.

Hailey peeked over her shoulder. She looked back at Colby, Jake, and the stranger secure between them. To her surprise, they all shared the same somber expression. Colby, Jake, even the stranger didn’t want her to go. They looked how she was feeling: afraid.

She turned back to her husband.

_tick tick tick tick_

He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t love her, not really. Or maybe he did, just in his own twisted way that she knew wasn’t right. 

_tick tick ticktick_

Casey raised his chin. “Hailey, my love—”

_ticktickticktickticktick_

She didn’t want to be his love. She didn’t want to be his anything.

Hailey raised her hands, reached for his face to cup his cheeks.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

“Open up!!” a woman shouted on the other end of the door. “This is the police!!”

Time resumed like an avalanche. The knocking, the yelling, it was all a few pieces of ice shifting at the top of a mountain.

Hailey grit her teeth. _“Quiesco,”_ she hissed. 

Someone gasped behind her. 

Her eyes flashed a deep amber. _"Asshole."_

Casey collapsed at the same time the police kicked the door in, like packed snow plummeting down the mountainside all at once. Reality rushed in with the officers, yelling and screaming. It swept past her with a warm breeze from the hallway. It clung to Sam and Corey, who followed the raid closely and split up to reunite with their friends.

Sam didn’t hesitate to throw himself at Colby, trapping him in a bear hug that had him stumbling back in surprise. He trailed kisses across Colby’s cheek and down his jaw until he buried his face in his neck.

“Are you okay?!” he demanded. He pulled away just enough to cup Colby’s face and look him in the eyes. “Oh my god, I was so worried!”

Colby smiled weakly. “I’m okay,” he promised. He dipped his head and kissed Sam softly. Then, he rested his forehead against his and sighed. “I’m okay.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry, and I—fucking hell, thank god you’re alive.” Sam hugged him again.

A few feet away, Corey broke from a tight embrace with Jake. He looked his friends over for injuries.

“You guys good?” he asked. “What the fuck even happened? Sam just said Casey was here and that you guys were in trouble.”

Reggie shook his head. “I’m just as lost as you.” He stayed close to Jake and Corey with his hand wrapped around his bicep.

Jake frowned. “Shit, your arm. How bad is it?”

“It’s, ah…” Reggie lifted his hand and revealed the bloodied mess beneath. “I’ve definitely had worse, bro. It’s nothing a band-aid won’t fix.”

“Excuse me,” an officer called, “I’m sorry to break up your reunions, but we still need to know what exactly happened here.” She pointed to Casey’s lifeless body. “Starting with this man. Is he dead, and if so, how?”

Hailey swallowed thickly. She took a deep breath and stepped toward the officers. There were only two, thankfully. That made things easier.

She took their hands in hers. Raising her chin, she focused her magic into the physical contacts while jumping from one gaze to the other.

“Nothing violent happened here today,” she informed. “This man died from a heart attack. No foul play was involved. Everybody here is fine; thank you for coming, but we no longer need your services.”

Hailey released them and smiled. “I’ll stay and answer any questions you have, but may my friends please leave? They’d like to go home.”

One of the officers blinked a few times before answering, “Sure… of course.” Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but she didn’t question why her mind was suddenly foggy.

Hailey looked back at her friends. “I’ll be over soon.”

Reggie shook his head. “What did she just—”

Jake shushed him and led the way out of the apartment. The boys followed one by one with Sam and Colby in the back. They shot Hailey concerned looks as they passed, hand in hand. 

She smiled.

•••••

Sam and Colby escaped to their room. They left Jake and Corey to clean up Reggie’s cut because they needed just a _few minutes_ alone with each other.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Colby trapped Sam against the wall. He didn’t kiss him, just wanted to be close. He wanted to touch him, feel his hot breath against his skin, to know that he was okay. They both were. They were okay and alive and still in one piece.

“Where were you?” Colby demanded. His hands fell to Sam’s hips; his arms wrapped around his waist.

“I was with Corey, remember?” Sam pressed his cheek to Colby’s chest and inhaled deeply, savoring his scent. “We were dealing with the Shadow Man.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Colby shook his head. “No, tell me now. I need to not think about what just happened.”

Sam nodded. He grabbed Colby’s hand and led him to the bed. He kicked his shoes off, climbed to his side, and hugged a pillow to his chest. Colby followed.

For the next few minutes, Sam filled Colby in on what they’d experienced a few blocks down. He told him everything from his crazy dash for Corey’s room to their risky plan B. He showed the three scratches on his arm, which weren't as deep as they felt. They were the traditional three scratches given by a demon as a warning or something. It was the first time he'd actually experienced them, and shit, he wasn't a fan. 

Colby listened carefully. He ran his fingers across Sam’s arm, mindful of the scratches. The story finished, and Sam’s phone vibrated with a text. Colby ignored it and asked, “Do these hurt?”

“To touch, yeah.” Sam huffed. As he fished his phone out, he continued, “Those… things are so weird. Ghosts and regular shadow people don’t do damage. Like I’ve been touched before, but only a poke or something.” His thumb trailed the irritated skin surrounding the scratches. “Demons do damage.”

The message came from Marcus, an innocent question to check in and catch up. Sam grit his teeth and deleted it immediately.

Colby raised Sam’s arm to his lips and pressed soft kisses against the injury.

Goosebumps rose over Sam’s skin at the touch. The corners of his lips lifted into a smile before they fell again. “I’m sorry I stayed behind with Marcus,” he admitted quietly. “The _second_ Corey left, I regretted it. I’m sorry I go off on my own to talk to spirits that I probably shouldn’t be talking to, and I’m sorry I snuck into our old house after you told me not to. I—”

“Shh,” Colby hushed. He shook his head and smiled.

“I just miss you,” he sniffed. He tipped his head back to lean against the headboard.

Colby breathed a laugh. “Baby, it’s okay.” He cupped Sam’s cheek. “It’s okay. I forgive you, alright?” He lifted Sam’s chin and kissed him softly.

When the kiss broke, their foreheads lingered against each others’.

“I love you,” Sam whispered. He buried his face in Colby’s neck. “So, so much.”

“I love you too.” Colby kissed his temple.

They stayed like that for a minute or so, pressed against each other, enjoying the comfort and love they’d been deprived of for the last two days. 

Two days. Had it really only been that long? It felt like weeks since they last held each other. Earlier counted, they supposed, but it was rushed and messy. They were frantic, desperate to make sure they were okay. In this moment, curled up in bed, fingers intertwined with their foreheads pressed together, they could finally take a breath.

“You ready to dive back into whatever the fuck’s happening out there?” Colby whispered reluctantly. He didn’t want to pull away yet, but their friends’ voices drifted under the door. Reggie was beginning to ask questions.

Sam sighed. “If we have to.” He smiled and kissed Colby’s cheek.

They headed back into the living room.

•••••

A few minutes after Sam and Colby joined the party, Hailey stepped into the apartment. She eyed the quiet men occupying the couch a few feet away. With a deep breath, she stormed into the room and looked over each friend carefully.

She noticed Sam and Colby sitting side-by-side on the couch, joined hands resting in Sam’s lap. She bit back a smile at the sight.

“So who called the police, and what the hell were you thinking?”

Sam raised his hand sheepishly. “It was Corey’s idea, but I called and waited for them.” At Hailey’s unimpressed glare, he quickly added, “What were _we_ supposed to do? Neither of us have magic!”

“They saved us,” Colby pointed out. “The cops distracted Casey long enough for you to…” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth.

“So, what the actual fuck happened here today?” Reggie demanded. Everybody but Sam looked at him as he pushed to the edge of the couch and leaned forward on his knees. At the same time, Sam received another text.

“Who was that sick fuck? What was with the mind game shit, and what did you do to him? And why,” he glanced around his friends, “did he know you guys?”

Sam, Colby, Corey, and Jake shared looks. They’d considered erasing his memory, but Jake was against it. So, that meant expanding their group a bit more.

Colby smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Hailey, we have to start from the top with this.”

Hailey huffed. She fell on the couch next to Colby and waved her hand, signalling them to continue.

From the very beginning of Colby performing his first spell to Sam getting his Sight to meeting Casey and Hailey to Colby refusing to join the coven to Sam meeting Sallos then Matt to Colby taking magic lessons, etc, etc, all the way up to a brief explanation of the ritual, the core four filled Reggie in on everything leading up to that moment. The times Sam didn’t speak, he listened in awe at the things they’d done over the past four months. He was _there_ , and he didn’t believe some of it. Their lives had turned into a modern fantasy novel, who would’ve guessed?

“… and that’s why Casey made you a bargaining chip for me,” Hailey finished with a sigh. “There, he’s caught up.”

Reggie didn’t say anything for a solid minute. He stared straight ahead, absorbing every piece of information they just fed him like a dish sponge trying to soak up the ocean. He barely even blinked.

Jake waved a hand in front of his face. “I think he’s broken.”

“Would it help if we proved it?” Colby offered. He held his hand out, palm up. “Dark as night, show the way. Give me light, bright as day.”

A flame sparked to life in Colby’s hand. It exploded a few inches in the air before settling to a calm flicker.

Sam watched the fire in wonder.

Reggie stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. “No way,” he whispered. “No. Fucking. Way.”

Colby closed his hand and extinguished the fire.

“Do we all have to prove it?” Sam asked.

“I’d rather not,” Hailey answered.

Reggie shook his head. “I can’t believe _this_ is what you guys have been doing on your ghost hunting trips and everything. And you,” he turned to Jake and smacked his chest, “that illness you had, it has something to do with all of this right?”

“Illness?” Sam repeated.

“It wasn’t an _illness_ ,” Jake stressed, “just a bad reaction to the… you know.”

Colby frowned. He glanced at his friends and was surprised to be the only one confused. “The what?”

“He took the drug the night of the ritual,” Sam explained quietly.

“Drug?!” Reggie repeated. “The hell are you guys talking about?”

“It’s a supernatural Sight drug,” Hailey explained with a sigh.

“Like Sam’s thing?”

“Stronger,” Sam corrected. “I can only see ghosts and demons. The Global Drug lets you see _everything:_ Witches, werewolves, fairies, vampires, ghosts, demons, mermaids… angels.”

“Angels?” Corey repeated with wide eyes. “No way.”

“And you took that?!” Reggie cried. He smacked Jake’s chest again.

“Colby gave himself the Sight a few months ago!” Jake defended. “It’s like the same thing!”

“Hey, he’s right,” Sam agreed. “It is the same thing. As long as you’re _okay_ ,” he nodded at Jake, “then I think we should stop ridiculing him.”

“Thank you,” Jake breathed.

Hailey rose to her feet. She stood next to the coffee table and crossed her arms. She raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“I’ve never heard it called the Global Drug before.”

Sam nodded slowly. “It’s what Marcus named it.”

“Marcus is… the bad guy, right?” Reggie asked. “Why would he tell you that information?”

“Cause Sam went rogue after the ritual,” Jake teased.

“Hey,” Colby warned.

“No, it’s fine.” Sam pat Colby’s thigh. He looked to Reggie. “I put myself in a dangerous situation without really thinking things through.” Next, he turned to Corey. “I am _so_ sorry for putting you in that position, man. I shouldn’t have done that, not with Colby out of it and Casey coming after us.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have made you leave me behind. I’m sorry.”

Corey smiled. “It’s good, bro. We were all scared that night.”

“Was Casey chasing after you,” Reggie asked, pointing at Colby, “or all of you?”

“Us,” Sam answered, pointing between him and Corey. “Someone told him we were waiting on Colby.” He looked at Hailey. “Someone told Marcus, too.”

She sighed. “Okay, we need to start from the beginning. You two,” she pointed between Sam and Jake, “are going to tell us everything that happened that night. Colby,” she looked at him, “since the ritual and everything that occured after is being treated as an attack, we have to discuss it in private. I have to deal with it as the leader of our coven, not as your friend.”

Colby nodded slowly. “Got it.”

Sam began first. He recalled his conversation with Marcus in the car after the ritual. There wasn’t much information besides outing him for following them to each filming location. Unfortunately, the only information he gathered was that Marcus was a major stalker.

“But he _did_ take me to Taco Bell, which is where I told you guys to meet us at, instead of kidnapping me, so…” Sam shrugged.

Colby rolled his eyes. “Yeah, at least he did _that_.” He scoffed. “What a fucking saint.”

Sam pressed his lips into an amused smile as he looked over at Colby.

“Jake, your turn,” Hailey ordered. “What have you learned with the supernatural Sight?”

Jake hummed. He leaned on his side and grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

“I made a list,” he informed, “of every supernatural creature I saw in those twenty-four hours. I didn’t see anyone cool except for a mermaid and someone with freaky black veins, though.”

He went down the line, starting with seers and ending with whatever weird black veined cashier he encountered the day he, Reggie, and Tara went out to eat. The others listened curiously, asking questions in between and voicing their wonders of the beings. Reggie stayed silent. He listened, mulled over the possibilities, and remained silent next to his brother.

“What happens now?” Colby asked after Jake finished his presentation.

Beside him, Sam received _another_ text. This time it wasn’t a quick check-in but a request. After everything, Marcus still thought Sam would meet up with him.

He shook his head with a scoff.

“What if it’s over?” Jake wondered. “Casey’s dead. Marcus doesn’t really have a reason to go after us, I mean unless Sam—”

Sam locked his phone. “I cut any ties I had with him. Numbers, emails, they’re all blocked.” He looked at Colby. “That won’t stop him, but at least it’ll make things harder.”

“Hopefully, Marcus will stick to his business, which has nothing to do with any of you,” Hailey said. “Lay low. Stay out of trouble. _Don’t_ take any more drugs.” She looked at Jake pointedly. “Try to make nothing beyond this point involve any of you.” Hailey turned to Colby.

Sam nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Hey,” Corey called, drawing his friends’ attention. He focused on Sam and Colby. “If something happens with either of you about _anything,_ you better tell us. Don’t try to keep secrets because you’re protecting us or some shit.” He rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips.

“We’re in this together, right?” Corry looked back at Jake, who nodded.

“Even Reggie… who might be broken again.” Jake poked Reggie’s arm. “Seriously, I’ve never seen him this quiet.”

“I’m just listening,” Reggie muttered.

Sam sat up straighter. “Reggie, man, you can’t tell anyone about this. Any of it. Nobody else can know.“

Colby nodded slowly. “Yeah, and… you don’t have to know, either. Hailey can erase your memories from the last few hours. It’ll be like this never happened.”

Reggie’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Nah, it’s cool.” He glanced at Jake, who watched him with wide, concerned eyes. He didn’t do that often. Reggie sighed deeply. “Of course I’ll keep your secret.”

Jake grinned. “Thanks brother.”

Over the next half hour, the gang slowly dispersed. First it was Reggie, who bowed out early with the excuse of fatigue. Jake followed shortly after, mumbling about a photoshoot the next day. 

Corey lingered more than hung out. He got to know Hailey more and kept conversation, but something was off. Colby and Hailey shared a few looks, wondering if they were thinking the same, but Sam knew. He’d been expecting something like this; Corey was stalling. He delayed his return home for as long as he could, and honestly, Sam couldn’t blame him.

Eventually, Corey announced he was leaving. He jumped to his feet, bid his farewells, and headed for the door.

“Hey, Corey?” Sam called as he followed. “Are you going home?”

“Hell no, dude!” Corey shook his head and sighed. “I’m staying with Chaz tonight.”

He nodded. “Got it. We're gonna figure this out.”

Corey smiled weakly. "Yeah, I know.”

Sam squeezed his shoulder. “See you later, man.”

“Later.”

The door shut, and the apartment was quiet. Behind him, Hailey and Colby conversed softly. They weren’t talking about anything special, just movies or magic or something. Sam turned to watch from the bar. He wondered if they were doing it on purpose, discussing random things as a distraction. Or maybe Hailey really did care whether Colby liked the Divergent series better than Hunger Games.

Actually, knowing Hailey, it was pretty likely.

Sam smiled. He approached slowly, savoring the moment. At first glance, you’d think the three of them had been friends for a while. You’d never guess that a month ago, she didn’t like either of them. You’d never guess they were all recovering from some trauma, near-death experiences being the common thread.

You’d never guess there was anything unnatural about their lives. At that moment, they just looked like a couple of twenty-somethings hanging out.

Sam sat next to Colby at the edge of the couch. Hailey moved down the table to give him feet room and crossed her ankles.

“We still have to talk about the ritual,” she reminded regretfully. 

Colby nodded. “I know.” His hands enclosed Sam’s in a warm hold. The pads of his fingers brushed across Sam’s knuckles as he fell into a trance with his gaze on the table.

“Or,” Sam suggested suddenly, “we could go grocery shopping.”

Hailey gave him a weird look. Colby laughed and breathed, “What?”

“It’s only like six o’clock, and Hailey ate all of our food in the two weeks that she’s been here.” Sam smirked at her.

“First of all, there was hardly any here to begin with,” she defended dryly. “Second of all, you helped a _tremendous_ amount.”

“Oh _whatever,_ we got Postmates that night.”

“And what about the popcorn, hm?”

“ _You_ ate the last bag!”

“Okay, okay!” Colby laughed. He waved his arms and broke them up. “I was only gone for _two_ days, what the fuck?”

Sam grinned. “My point is, we have to get food! So let’s go!” He jumped to his feet.

Hailey and Colby shared a look, half confused and half amused, as Sam headed for their bedroom to grab shoes.

•••••

Two hours later, the trio stepped back into the apartment. Sam had a large reusable grocery bag filled with basic essentials and sweets; they usually ate out anyway. Really, they could’ve waited a few days to go shopping, but he was persistent, and neither Colby nor Hailey were going to tell him no.

They were halfway through putting away the groceries when Colby hugged Sam from behind. He rested his chin on his shoulder and pointed out, “We really didn’t need groceries right now.”

Sam paused, a loaf of bread in his hands. He sighed and leaned into Colby’s hold.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but you guys really needed a break.”

Hailey and Colby glanced at each other.

“I don’t know what happened in your apartment today,” Sam continued as he met Hailey’s gaze, “and I don’t know what happened at the ritual. Though what I _do_ know is that you guys look like hell.”

Colby chuckled. He kissed Sam’s temple.

“I killed Casey today,” Hailey admitted. “Then, I compelled the officers to think it was a heart attack.”

Colby felt Sam’s shoulders tense, so he hugged him tighter.

Sam stared with wide eyes and mouth hanging open. He played those words back in his head, _I killed Casey today. I killed Casey today._

“What the _fuck?!_ ” he cried.

“And good riddance to him,” Hailey spat. “He was a horrible man.”

Sam shook his head. He stepped out of Colby’s embrace and turned to face the two of them. He looked at Colby first, wondering if his boyfriend was as put off as he was. To his surprise though… he wasn’t. 

“Colby?? Why aren’t you freaking out about this?! She killed someone!”

“Sam! Sam,” Colby cooed. He stepped in front of him and reached for his arms. “Baby, look at me.” He tilted his head, trying to block Sam’s glare aimed at Hailey. When he finally caught Sam’s eye, he explained gently, “Casey had a _knife_ to Reggie’s neck. He was going to hurt him and all of us. She acted out of self defense.”

“All that magic and she couldn’t, like, immobilize him or something?” Sam spat, but it held hardly any bite. He understood why she did it, and admittedly, he was grateful it happened to him and not someone he cared about. Still, his morals couldn’t let it go. There was still a murderer standing a few feet away.

“I acted impulsively, I’ll admit,” Hailey answered. “He was after me, but of course, Colby wouldn’t let me leave that easily.”

Colby cracked a smile.

“I had to make a choice between him and the rest of us, and I did. I won’t say I regret it, though I do feel remorse solely for the crime, not who it was committed against.” Hailey sighed. “I won’t deny it; the world is much better off without him. It was still a life taken, so believe me, I understand what I’ve done.” She rocked on her heels, wiped her sweaty palms against her pants, and chewed on her lip.

Sam inhaled deeply. “Okay,” he answered quietly.

“Okay?” she repeated.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say.” He walked past Colby, grabbed the loaf of bread, and turned to place it on the back counter. There was silence behind him, likely full of unsure shared looks and hesitation. 

Then Hailey’s heels clicked across the floor, and Colby asked, “Are you going home?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I think it’s time.”

Sam tapped his fingers against the counter. Then, he turned to help gather her things.

“I still have questions about the ritual, Colby,” she admitted as she packed her bag.

Colby groaned. “I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.” He took a seat on the ground to grab her spell books and hand them to Sam.

“Two questions,” she promised. “Then, we never have to discuss it again.”

Sam stacked the books on the couch next to Hailey’s bag. When he was finished, he joined Colby on the floor. Hailey, eventually, took a seat between them.

“The other witches who were there that night have already confessed, but there’s a flaw in their story,” she began. “They claimed to be attacked by a pack of werewolves, and the damage inflicted to the forest and the church was a result of self defense. Is that true?”

Sam looked to Colby, who shook his head immediately. His eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned.

“Werewolves?” he repeated. “That’s not even close.”

Hailey nodded. “Okay, last question. What exactly was the ritual?”

Colby swallowed thickly. He inhaled deeply, knowing he’d have to admit it in one go. Otherwise, the memories would take over.

“They carved scales off of an actual, _living_ mermaid.”

“Was she awake?” Sam asked quietly.

He didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded slowly. When he felt Sam’s fingers brush his, he squeezed his hand.

“Okay,” Hailey said with a nod, “thank you, Colby. That will help me decide what kind of punishment to give those involved.”

“Those inv––what do you mean?” he asked. His jaw clenched. “ _I_ was involved.”

“Your name hasn’t come up yet, and I intend to keep it that way. Besides, you’re the only one who’s dismissing the idea of a werewolf attack.” Hailey raised her chin. “That makes me think you left before they created that excuse.”

“Right…” Colby sighed. “Thanks for having my back, Hailey.”

She climbed to her feet. “No problem, what are,” she glanced at Sam, “ _friends_ for?”

“Ah ha!” he cried with a grin. “I _knew_ you’d admit it by the end of the month! You owe me ice cream.”

Colby huffed with a fond laugh, and Hailey rolled her eyes.

“We’ll talk soon,” she promised. As she headed for the door, she called, “Goodnight!”

“Night,” they replied.

Sam got up next to lock the door. Colby followed a few steps behind, lazy to move but longing for his bed. He was more than ready to sink into the warmth and safety of his covers, snuggled against his boyfriend, and sleep for twelve hours.

When Sam returned, he smiled tiredly. Colby thought he’d say something, but instead, Sam pulled him into a tight hug that took him by surprise. Only a second passed before he registered the firm grip around his waist and the face buried his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Sam muttered.

Colby exhaled deeply, letting his eyes fall closed as he savored the embrace. Until that moment, he didn’t realize how bad he needed a hug. It didn’t even have to come from Sam, though he’s thankful it did. As if realizing this, Sam’s arms tightened around him. Tears pricked in Colby’s eyes.

“Me too,” he whispered; had to, didn’t trust his voice otherwise. 

Sam’s grip loosened, ready to pull away and get ready for bed. Colby didn’t move. His heart skipped a beat.

“Colby?”

He sniffed, and it was heavy, the kind that comes with fat tears about to fall at any second. Sam’s stomach dropped. Reluctantly, he forced himself out of Colby’s hold. He hated to break the hug, but he needed to see him. He needed to know what was going on and how to fix it.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered as he took Colby’s face in his hands. His thumbs brushed a few stray tears away. “Talk to me, love. What’s wrong?”

Colby swallowed thickly. He clenched his jaw and took a few deep breaths. When his eyes shut, more tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“I almost died,” he breathed with such softness in his words that Sam didn’t catch the first half. 

The last word was all he needed for his breath to catch in his throat. 

“The first time didn’t really affect me because we’ve had close calls before,” he continued. “Not with, like, werewolves obviously, but just…”

“Yeah,” Sam answered with a nod. 

“And the second time, I––” Colby inhaled deeply, turned his head, shifted away from Sam. 

“Love, it's okay,” he pleaded. He chased, grabbed his hands, reassured that he was _there_ , right there.

Colby’s gaze settled on the floor, and Sam could see how glossy his eyes were. One blink, and the dam would break.

“I was almost buried alive,” he admitted slowly, carefully, like the words were numb on his tongue. 

Sam’s mouth parted, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“I stopped—They were going to kill that girl, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I stopped them. While I ran, Alley disappeared to help her. I took care of the three chasing me, and I thought I was safe, but then Casey caught me. He—” Colby’s breathing shook as he inhaled. “God, Sam, he is—was— _so fucking powerful_. We underestimated him. _I_ underestimated him.”

“Colby…” Sam reached for him hesitantly. His fingers hovered next to his jaw before they swept through his hair. “I am so sorry that happened to you.”

“It was my decision to stay there.”

Sam frowned and shook his head. “But it’s _not_ _your fault_.”

“I know, I know, but sometimes I can’t help thinking that if I—” Colby’s jaw clenched. “If I didn’t stop them from killing that girl—”

“Then you’d be an accessory to murder. Colby, you saved that girl’s life.”

“Yeah.” He looked at the floor. “I guess.”

“Casey is dead, and good fucking riddance to him,” Sam snapped. Just the name left a bad taste in his mouth. He tipped Colby’s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. Softly, he added, “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Colby lower lip quivered. He bit it hard and pulled at his hair. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling this time, spilling over his cheeks and dripping off his jaw.

Sam grabbed his arms and pulled him into another hug, tighter than the last. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here, you’re okay.” He kissed Colby’s shoulder and rubbed his back.

He grit his teeth. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again,” he promised. “Not while I’m here.”

•••••

_The first time had been an obvious mistake. He’d gone in practically blind, experimenting with only a little knowledge of veil hopping. In his defense, though… he didn’t have a lot of material to go off of._

_But this… this should’ve worked. His partner was older than before with more magic and control. He was willing as ever; his excitement rivalled Marcus himself. They’d started off perfectly, so why…_

_Marcus towered over a black pit, six feet deep. He stood in the forest surrounding the Stanley Hotel. Weston’s lifeless body lay inches from his shoes. There was a jagged line sliced right across his throat; blood stopped pouring out of it minutes ago. Now it was dry and crusty around the wound._

_He pressed his foot against Weston’s side and pushed forward. The body rolled over the edge and unceremoniously plummeted into the grave. Marcus hummed as he commanded piles of dirt with the wave of his hand. In only a minute, the hole was filled, like it never even happened._

_Why, why couldn’t he figure this out? Marcus returned to the hotel with his fists pulling at his hair. Why couldn’t he crack this code? What was he missing??_

_He managed to capture a few souls, but it wasn’t enough. They’d last him a month at most. He needed a new plan, a new_ test subject _._

_“The camera just died on three-fourths battery, which doesn’t happen.”_

_Just as he rounded the corner of the hotel, his dark eyes zeroed in on a familiar group of men across the courtyard. There were three with a final male in a white t-shirt joining a few steps behind. In the dead of night, their word echoed throughout the property._

_Sam faced the hotel. It was dark, but… Marcus could still see him, and he wondered. He wondered how Sam dealt with his ability, constantly surrounded by ghosts. He worried about him sometimes. Living with the Sight was no easy task, and to do it alone… sure, he had Colby, but what could Colby do? Nothing. Colby didn’t understand. He didn’t get it._

_If Sam trusted Marcus more, he could help. He could make all of Sam’s worries go away._

_Marcus lingered at the top of the stairs. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched the YouTubers discuss._

_Maybe he’d been going about this all wrong. Maybe the witches were self destructing because they didn’t have the connection to veil hopping that Marcus did. He practiced magic, sure, but he was also a seer._

_“Let’s go back inside,” Sam suggested. “I’ll throw in a new battery, and we’ll talk about this in a second.”_

_He hurried inside before they could spot him. He took the stairs two at a time as his brain reeled with theories for his next hop._

_He needed to test seers, not witches. Which meant sending Casey after Colby was pointless. Colby couldn’t possibly achieve such a feat, but…_

_But maybe Sam could._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLLOOOOOOO!!! i missed you all!! a lot!! i feel like it's been years since i've written for the main story. i'm so excited to get back into this, especially with everything going on right now.
> 
> you know, when i announced last week that this story would be starting soon, i never imagined so much would happen around the world in only ~seven days~. i mean, wow. we're actually living in a pandemic. this'll prob be the only time i talk about this because i'm sure you're all as tired of hearing about the coronavirus as i am, but i'm curious.
> 
> i live in eastern kentucky (USA), and the closest confirmed case is an hour away from me. there isn't much in my area to begin with, but what is here is closed. restaurants shut down fairly early, only accepting Doordash and drive-thru. the movie theater was one of the last to go; it closed its doors on wednesday (which means i'm now #unemployed, so that's fun). for some reason, our mall is still operating. i can't imagine it being long now.
> 
> how are things where you are? is your country/state/province/city on lockdown? if so, where are you at? you don't have to say if you don't want to, of course. like i said, i'm just curious. this is a crazy thing that's happening right now. how are you all dealing with quarantine and everything? i'm surviving by, well, writing. and bingeing some new shows on netflix.
> 
> sorry, i'm rambling. i'll let you go now. thanks so much for reading!! i'll talk to you all next week!! :)


	2. chip away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Colby work in getting back to normal. Jake faces temptation. Hailey has to make a few drastic decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my internet is down & i’m posting this on my phone. so, sorry if there are any weird mistakes in the formatting!

“Hi, Lynn.”

Hailey stared into her mirror and brushed her face with light powder.

“ _Hello, Lynn,”_ she tried while grabbing a nude eyeshadow palette (her one and only) and a blending brush. “Yes, it has been a while, how are you? I’m actually calling about Casey. I’m afraid he’s… dead.”

She paused with a huff. “Wow,” she chuckled humorlessly, “could I be anymore insensitive?” As she finished her makeup, Hailey continued testing different ways to break the news to Casey’s mother, who she’d be calling after her coven meeting. Even though he didn’t speak to his family much after moving out of his home, they still had a right to know.

Hailey was only thankful that she didn’t contact them after Casey’s first death. She planned to… eventually. There was just a feeling at the time, like something wasn’t right. Like it wasn’t over yet.

But this felt good. Well, not _good_ , but… correct. No, that still sounded awful. Look, there wasn’t a sense of dread stuck in her throat. She didn’t feel like another shoe was going to drop. Maybe, probably, it was because he died at her own hands. This time was true, she was sure of it.

With a sigh, she met her gaze in the mirror. Her silver white hair was pinned back in a tight bun. Light brown roots were beginning to peek through at the top of her head. It had been a year since she’d seen her natural hair in full. Casey suggested she dye it one day. Well, he didn’t say silver specifically. It was after a fight. He thought she was flirting with a brunet man at a concert, so he accused her of cheating. There was a lot of yelling and name calling from both sides, but he’d always been more ruthless in verbal disagreements. He didn’t like her hair, or so he said. It matched that man’s hair too well. Casey wanted her to change it, immediately. Shave it, dye it, he didn’t care. As long as it didn’t look like _his_. 

Many people were surprised by her sudden change. Ruth approved, although she didn’t hide her concern very well. Neighbors on the floor expressed their confusion, but they were never rude. They all loved the new look. Casey thought the silver was just _okay_ , though. But Hailey thought it was perfect. It blended so well with everything else he owned: white and elegant. She applauded herself for still managing to fit right in.

Her attire was the same for work: a black pantsuit with a white undershirt and heels. Black was the regular color for her coven’s officials, chosen by Casey for “symbolic” reasons. It appeared neat and professional, similar rules for her day job.

She hated her day job.

Hailey raised her chin as she looked over her outfit thoughtfully. 

The meeting began at 9 AM, and according to her phone, she had just enough time for an outfit change.

•••••

On the dot, Hailey Claiborne stormed into the meeting room. She donned a red pantsuit, with a white undershirt and red heels. Her hair lay free against her shoulders in soft waves. She smiled at the men who stared back in surprise with bold red lipstick she grabbed last minute on her way out the door.

The worry for her phone call with Casey’s mother was put on hold. Her insecurities embedded in her current leadership position melted away. She’d made a decision in how they would deal with the traitors, and she believed in it. For the first time since she claimed leadership of the coven, she truly walked its floors with _confidence_.

“You’re _late,”_ Thomas, self-proclaimed right hand man to Casey, snapped. 

Hailey raised her wrist to check the time on her watch. “No,” she argued with a head shake. With a smirk, she walked to the table. “I’m actually right on time. Besides, you can’t start the meeting without me.” She pulled her chair out and took her seat next to Ruth.

“We have strict dress codes in this coven,” Roger, a nicer version of Thomas, reminded with a strained smile. “Red is _not_ our color.”

“It is now. Actually, _who cares_ what color we wear? As of today, I decree freedom to wear whatever the hell we want.” Hailey glanced around the table of professors. “I think it’s about time things change around here.” Most of them were men. In fact, all but two identified as male, and with eight people all together, that just didn’t feel right. “Casey’s reign is over, and it has been for a long time.”

“Now you wait just a minute,” Thomas growled. “You can’t just waltz in here like this and expect us to change _years_ of tradition just because you—”

“Because I’m _in charge?_ ” she offered with a head tilt. “Yes actually, I can. And I will. It’s about time I started taking initiative. What, did you think I’d let you walk all over me forever?”  
  
Thomas bit his tongue and settled into his seat. 

Hailey pressed her lips together as she fought back a smirk. That felt so much better than she’d ever expected.

“So,” she began as she sat up straighter, “I believe I have a decision to make about a few traitors.”

The men glanced at each other. Thomas and Roger in particular shared a few knowing looks.

Roger cleared his throat. “Some of us think exile is the best route while others believe death is in order.”

She nodded. “While I don’t believe you actually asked _everyone’s_ opinions at this table,” she threw knowing looks to Ruth and Nikki, the other woman, “it doesn’t matter. I’ve already made up my mind: three years in the dungeon. Exile is too easy, and they’re loose cannons. Death is too harsh, though. They’re just kids.”

“Three years?” Thomas repeated with a scoff. “That’s it? They attacked our church, betrayed our coven, and you’re only giving them three years?!” He shook his head. “Because they’re what, _children?_ They’re not even teenagers anymore!”

“They’re young adults!” Hailey defended. “Emphasis on the ‘young’ part! They’re easily influenced, especially by someone more powerful than them!”

“They weren’t influenced by anyone! They acted on their own!”

“No, that’s not true! I—” She clenched her jaw and sighed, grounding herself. “I have reason to believe Marcus Pierce was involved. Or at least, someone who works for him.”

Ruth reached for her cup of tea.

“If we keep them prisoner, maybe we can get some answers from them,” Hailey explained. “They serve their time, _and_ we get info on an infamous outlaw. If Marcus is truly in the city, we need to be prepared for anything.”

The table was silent as the men pondered her words. Ruth innocently sipped her tea. Nikki tapped her freshly manicured French tips against the wood.

“Well,” she announced with a smile, “I’m for it.”

Ruth nodded. “As am I.”

Hailey beamed at them. “Thank you.”

Thomas shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. As he met her gaze, his voice rose, “You’re too soft on them. They _attacked_ us, and you’re letting your hormones cloud your judgement like–like—like the _woman_ you are.” He glared at the other men. “This is why they can’t be in positions of power! They’re too emotional to do what’s right.” He glowered at Hailey. “Their _feelings_ get in the way.”

Hailey’s hands curled into fists. She grit her teeth and matched his glower with her own heated stare.

“You’re right,” she admitted evenly. “My emotions _do_ play a part in my decisions, and you know what they’re telling me right now?” Hailey pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. “This arrangement isn’t working anymore. I want a council I can work and agree with. I don’t like this dictatorship where I make all the decisions without input from anyone else. I want everybody to feel like they have a say in how things are run.”

“Perfect,” Roger agreed with a nod. “Then let’s rethink that punishment, hm?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. That decision was made today during this meeting with my current council, so what I say goes. That is the system we have set up here, right? And if that’s all we have to discuss today, then the final meeting with this council is adjourned.”

The members watched her, puzzled.

“What do you mean ‘final meeting?’” Roger demanded.

“Final meeting _with this council_ ,” Hailey corrected. “I mean that as of this moment forward, you,” she pointed to each man, “are no longer members.”

Startled mutters and protests broke out around the circle. Thomas sputtered his words. Ruth choked on her tea. Roger’s jaw dropped.

Hailey raised her chin and continued before she could talk herself out of this, “Ruth, Nikki, and I will work on finding new people to fill the chairs and create an equal council. The rest of you may remain in the coven if you so desire.” She nodded in reassurance to herself that this was the right thing to do. 

“This isn’t an exile, but it is a new era.”

“Hailey,” Roger tried, “you can’t possibly—”

“My decision is final,” she declared. She pushed her chair under the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she glanced around the room one last time with a genuine grin, memorizing the sweet shock frozen on the old men’s faces, “I have a hair appointment.”

Hailey Claiborne turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room. Behind her, she left a trail of confusion, defeat, and sweet, sweet victory.

•••••

Sometimes Sam wished he could cook better. Then, they could stay in the comfort of their own home. It would be safer at least, but that’s assuming something’s out to get them… which wasn’t true anymore, thankfully. Their part was finished; nothing involved them anymore. They could start easing back into normalcy.

Which meant going to McDonald’s for breakfast dates because that was normal, familiar, a warm memory even before they began dating. They chose a table beside windows that faced a busy street. It was just the two of them, per Colby’s request. They discussed everything over their food, starting with work and new video ideas and eventually drifting to the colorful people claiming the seats around them.

Maybe it was best that Sam didn’t cook.

Colby finished his meal first. As he returned from the trash, his phone rang.

“Yo,” he answered. He reached across the table and wiggled his fingers. Sam, with a chuckle, grabbed his hand. “Sam and I are eating breakfast,” he informed. “What’s up?” He paused to listen. His eyes fell to what was left of Sam’s food, then they leapt to his face. He smiled fondly and didn’t hear his name in his ear until the third time. “Uh, what? Oh—Oh yeah, yeah, we can stop by. Sam’s almost finished eating, so see you in like… half an hour? Cool, bye.”

As Sam reached for his drink, he asked, “Who was that?”

“Elton. He’s planning a new TFIL trip, you wanna go?”

“Hm… nah.”

Colby frowned. “What? Really?”

Sam snickered. “No. _Of course_ I wanna go!” He piled his trash together and stood.

As he emptied his tray, he caught sight of one Marcus Pierce across the dining room talking on his phone. Sam’s breath caught. What was he doing there, at the same place as them? Was it a coincidence? Not likely.

Someone touched him from behind, and he flinched. Gently fingers pressed into his back.

“Just me,” Colby reassured softly. “C’mon.”

Sam let himself be pushed outside. They stopped behind his white car, and Colby took his keys, muttering something about wanting to drive.

“Colby,” Sam began when they were in the car.

“I know.” He rested his hand on Sam’s thigh. “It’s okay. He didn’t even see us.”

Sam scoffed. “I hate being so freaked over him.”

“I know.”

He looked at Colby. He watched his jaw clench and unclench, his eyes narrow at the world, and his grip on the steering wheel tighten. Sam raised Colby’s hand and planted soft kisses across his knuckles.

He relapsed quickly on his cooking desire.

•••••

Five minutes after Sam and Colby left, Marcus emerged from the restaurant. He was still on the phone, this time with his roommate Tyler. The first had been a call about his rent; he needed to close a few more sales before Friday in order to make the cut. Landlords were nothing if not ruthless, you know.

“Are you posted outside their building?” he questioned as he unlocked his car. 

“Yeah,” Tyler answered, and he didn’t sound happy about it. Rightfully so, too. It was only ten in the morning, who knew how long he’d have to loiter in this parking lot? “I still don’t get why the fuck I’m out here so early. Even if I see him, why should I waste our _limited supplies?_ ”

Marcus’ car hummed with life. Jazz music poured out of the speakers softly. He so adored that genre.

“Our supplies aren’t _that_ limited,” he chuckled. “We can spare a few for a new customer.”

“Why him, though? Why not one of his friends, you know, the ones who actually have a place in our world?” Tyler scoffed. “This kid is just ordinary.”

Marcus sighed—he wasn’t getting it. “Which made him a perfect target the first time around, hm? He took the bait, albeit hesitantly, but his friends wouldn’t have.” He hummed, then added, “Well, maybe Sam would’ve. He’s a curious one, like us.” He smiled.

“Then shouldn’t I be pursuing him? He’d probably be more useful to us anyways.”

“He is! But not right now. Unfortunately, I think I’ve scared him off for the time being.” Marcus thought back to the failed texts he tried sending earlier that morning. None delivered, no matter how many times he played with his Wifi and reconnected with service towers. Remembering made his heart sink. “He’ll come around,” he reassured, mostly for himself.

“We need more souls, boss. Fast.”

“I know, I know. I’m still working on my next hop. I’m looking for a new partner.”

On Tyler’s end, a voice filled the parking lot. It was young and cheerful and, thankfully, familiar.

“Here he comes,” he muttered. “Later.” He cut off Marcus’ farewell and pocketed his phone. As the voice grew louder, Tyler stepped out of his car and leaned against the hood.

“I’ll be over soon,” Jake promised with a grin. “Love yeeewwwww.” He raised his key fob to his car and clicked it open. As he moved to end his call, his gaze shifted to the almost-stranger. He stopped short.

“Hey,” Tyler nodded, “long time, no see.”

“What do you want?”

“Just doing a follow up on the goods.” He shrugged. “You know, how you liked it, and when you’re ready for another order.”

Jake shifted his weight. “I don’t want another order.”

“You sure? You don’t seem sure.”

He pressed his lips together, thought things over. Finally, “It had some nasty after effects, dude.”

“That was only for the first taste. Your body gets used to it over time, just like the ordinary Sight. Haven’t you ever asked your friend how he felt directly after being cursed?”

Ordinary? Ha. There were a lot of words he’d use to describe Sam’s Sight, and _ordinary_ was nowhere close.

“You mean fucking migraines from hell, sensitivity to light, and vomitting are all symptoms Sam went through too?” Jake rolled his eyes.

Tyler frowned. He raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly, “You… really don’t know much about anything, do you?” Right as Jake began to argue, he continued, “Those are all symptoms of the Sight, supernatural or not. Sam dealt with all of that too.” He shrugged. “It’s natural and totally not life threatening.”

“So if I go upstairs and ask right now, he’ll agree to all of that?”

“Of course.” The corners of Tyler’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Before you go, take this.” He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket. There were two Mento sized pills inside. “I’ll even give you a deal: two for one special. Twenty bucks.”

“I said I don’t want them.”

“Yeah, but we both know you’re lying. You’ve gotten a taste of the supernatural, and it’s far greater than the little side effects, isn’t it? What about the adrenaline rush every time you see a new creature? Not to mention the heightened senses—”

“Heightened senses?”

Tyler nodded, now smirking. “Oh yeah. You can hear and smell better than before. Sam can too; ask him.”

Jake gnawed on his lip as he considered the information.

“And,” Tyler added and stepped closer, “I’ll bet finally being a part of the conversation felt great, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake grumbled.

“Sure you do. I can see you don’t have anything special about you. Magic, sure, small traces. Maybe you could freeze a cup of water or something, but when it comes down to it, you’ll be the one they make stay home for _safety reasons.”_

Jake didn’t respond. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“But if you take this,” Tyler continued, waving the bag in front of his face, “you’ll see more than _Sam_ , the seer himself.”

”I don’t want to outdo him.”

“ _Of course not,_ ” he agreed, condescending, smirking. “If… sorry, _when_ the time comes, you’ll just provide an extra set of eyes. Something you can do and _nobody else can._ How does that sound?”

Jake licked his lips. He glanced from the seller to the pills. It was oh so tempting, goddamn. Despite the negative effects, he really missed the exhilarating warm rush that electrified his veins. It made him feel _alive_ , like trespassing and partying and trips with the boys. 

“Fine,” he agreed quietly, like maybe nobody would find out.

The exchange was short, sweet, and harmless. Basically, at least in that moment. The handoff was nothing short of suspicious, if someone watched from afar. It resembled a typical drug deal. Jake took the bag numbly. He tried not to give into the realization that he’d become another typical LA buyer.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Tyler grinned. He nodded as he opened his car door. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Jake swallowed thickly as he watched Tyler’s car disappear around the corner. He climbed into his own and sat in silence for a minute, staring at the pills he’d just bought. Two little, ordinary pills. Could be mistaken for candy, honestly. 

He popped one in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of old water from a bottle that laid on his floor for longer than a week. The taste was sour and full of iron, but tolerable. Worth it.

He hid the bag in his pocket. With a sigh, he turned his car on and drove out of the parking garage.

••••

Talk of a party lifted everyone’s spirits. It ignited the familiar warm buzz in Sam and Colby as they returned home to get ready. The friend group chat was the liveliest it’d been in a week, everybody sharing details and times of when they’d meet at the location. In LA, there was no doubt about it: parties turned any day into a good one.

Sam sat in the living room, stretched across the couch and playing on his phone. He was already dressed and ready in a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt. He contemplated his outfit longer than he should have. Parties were hot and stuffy, but there were things on his arms that he was hesitant to show people. Well, there was one thing. 

Sallos’ sigil, the only residue from a brief demonic possession two months earlier, remained seared into his skin like a nasty burn. It was circular with an outer and inner ring. The outer had his name: S A L L O S. The inner was an intricate design with curved lines and open circles, each drawn carefully over a straight radius across the circle’s width. It wasn’t perfect anymore, though. The sigil had to be broken in the midst of an exorcism with a cut between the Ls. Doing so allowed Sallos to enter someone else’s body before he harmed Sam, or… something like that.

He raised his arm in front of his face. With a feather-like touch, he traced his fingers around the sigil. It didn’t hurt. With its current state and the place it came from, he expected it to at least burn, but it never did. Itched, yes. Warmed (not quite burned, but heated enough to remind him it was still there), yes. Never burned… which was strange. Everything about that possession had been strange, really. Not what he expected. He demanded control over his body, and Sallos complied. Apparently, that wasn’t normal. No mood changes, no violent tendencies, no homosex—well. That wasn’t abnormal to begin with.

Perhaps it was the specific demon who possessed him—a pacifist, of all things. Duke of Hell, Sallos the Pacifist, stayed true to his beliefs. Mostly. There was Casey, but—

He frowned. If Sallos was truly a pacifist, then he shouldn’t have killed Casey. Or, well, “killed” Casey. Did he know he didn’t succeed? … What if he’s the _reason_ Casey didn’t die the first time?

“Ready?” Colby asked as he emerged from his room donned in his favorite color: black. He stopped next to the couch and checked his phone. “Jake’s coming over.” The party didn’t start for another few hours, but they were heading to someone’s house to pregame.

He grabbed Sam’s hand and twisted his arm to look at the sigil. “This thing’s never gonna heal, huh?” He chuckled.

“No,” Sam sighed. He pushed himself up with his other hand. “It looks kinda cool though, except for the—” he pointed to the cut breaking the circle. “It looks weird.”

Colby smiled. “I think it still looks sick.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. As long as it doesn’t hurt?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah. Feels weird sometimes, but never hurts.”

“Good.”

Jake knocked once before walking in. “Yo,” he greeted with a nod. He looked from Colby to Sam to the shadow person in the corner, then back to Colby. “Ready?”

“Hell yeah,” Colby grinned. They headed for the door one by one. He paused in the hallway and turned to take Sam’s hand. Sam mirrored his smile.

As they headed for the elevator, they passed a short, pudgy woman with light blond hair carrying a dish wrapped in aluminum. She barely spared them a glance, and they her. In the few months they’d lived in the building, they hadn’t bothered making any relationships with their neighbors outside of Hailey, and that’s okay. Well it was, until they caught a whiff of whatever sweet desert she made. For a moment before the elevator arrived, they collectively agreed to wishing they knew her… at least for her food.

Little did they know, this woman stopped near their homes. She knocked on the door across from Sam and Colby’s. When it opened, she beamed sympathetically at her neighbor.

“Hello dear,” she greeted with southern comfort that even LA couldn’t diminish. “I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. Here,” she offered her dish, “I made you some brownies.”

Hailey smiled as she grabbed the desert. “Thank you, Jane.” Jane and her husband Eric were the only people Hailey knew in the building besides Sam, Colby, and Jake. They helped her and Casey move in years ago, back when the complex had kinder people. As time moved on, not so friendly residents took the place of people Hailey didn’t mind having a chat with. 

She remembered Jane actually complaining about Sam, Colby, and Jake when they first moved in. She whined that the blissful peace of the top floor would be disturbed by the millenials, as she did with most new neighbors, often forgetting that Hailey was among their age group. Maybe that was because Casey had a few years on her (yet another reason she didn’t have any romantic feelings toward him in the beginning; four years wasn’t a huge difference, but even at twenty-three, he acted much older. She was only nineteen and new to the city. Even if she had been looking for a relationship, it wouldn’t be with someone so grown up).

They’d never been close with their neighbors, not like she was now with the boys. Still, Jane and Eric were friendly faces even when Sam and Colby were not. Eric worked for the LAPD; she should’ve known it was only a matter of time before Jane found out about Casey’s “heart attack.”

“How are you doing?” Jane asked gently. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m actually doing okay,” Hailey admitted carefully. She dramaticized a deep breath, pretending to fight back tears. “Better, at least. I’ve still not called his family. I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh!” Jane reached out to squeeze her wrist. “I can’t imagine! Well,” she checked her watch, “it’s not too awful late. Are they in the city?”

Hailey nodded. “Yes, just in Beverly Hills.”

“Would you like some company?”

No, not inside. Not in her home that didn’t quite feel like home yet. She glanced over her shoulder to swiftly survey her living room. It’s not that it was messy. In fact, during her first day of freedom from Sabnock, she tidied up like she hadn’t done in months. Scrubbed the counters, mopped the floors, dusted the furniture, etc. There were still traces, though. Traces of the beings, both human and demonic, that once inhabited the apartment. No matter how many times she wiped things down, the feeling wouldn’t go away.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to be alone right now.” Hailey smiled. “Just to, you know, think about things.”

“Right, I understand! Of course. Well, we’re here if you need us.” 

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and Hailey?” Jane tentatively reached for Hailey’s hair. She twisted a strand around her finger. “I’m glad you’re back to brunette. You’re looking more and more like your old self every day.”

That warmed Hailey’s heart more than she’d ever admit.

Her door shut behind her, and silence engulfed her once more. She gently set the dish on her counter beside the microwave. Then she turned toward the living room slowly. 

Everything in there reminded her of him, she realized. It was all classy and organized and so very Casey. The couches were white, the walls were tan, dark brown accented the interior. If she’d been in charge, things would look different. She wasn’t sure how exactly, but there would at least be some color!

She sighed and sat on the loveseat. It wasn’t even comfortable; she groaned. 

Her phone lay next to her. She tapped to check the time. Eight. 

With her tongue in her cheek, she unlocked her phone. Her thumbs moved hesitantly across the screen, swiping left and right absently before she worked up the courage to open her contact. She scrolled to the Cs and stopped: Lynn Claiborne.

Hailey inhaled deeply. The air was stuffy.

A few minutes later, she settled back into the couch. On the coffee table, white sage burned on a marble plate. She took another deep breath; her chest loosened.

She pressed the phone to her ear and listened to it ring. Once, twice, thrice…

“Hello?”

Hailey swallowed thickly. She shifted her weight and tucked a leg under her.

“Hello, Lynn,” she greeted softly. “It’s Hailey. I… I have something to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really loved this chapter. i know it was a bit of a filler, but hailey’s now my favorite character. 
> 
> i’ve never written someone who’s been through emotional abuse, so this is a learning experience for me, but i feel like i’m kinda doing okay?? idk
> 
> i see you’re all surviving wherever you are for the coronavirus! that’s good. i hope everyone stays safe out there!! :)


	3. #demonrights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hailey and her mother-in-law meet for funeral arrangements; Marcus searches for a new partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i researched ~religiously~ for this chapter. 
> 
> ha haha ha... 
> 
> you'll know when you know.
> 
> *crossing my fingers that the first scene publishes well and the format isn't messed up*

_“You think you can beat me?!”_

_His world shook._

_“You’re just a child.”_

_“So naive.”_

_“You’re not strong enough.”_

_“You’re going to die_

_die_

_die_

_here.”_

_The ground split apart and swallowed him whole._

_“I’ll be home soon.”_

_He kept falling down, down, down. Nothingness ate away his skin like acid. No beginning. No end._

_“I’ll be home soon.”_

_“You better be.”_

_An abyss._

  
  


His vision blurred when he first opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling; the soothing, white ceiling. Warm sunlight poured onto his face. The air conditioning’s quiet buzz filled the otherwise empty apartment. Peaceful. Safe. He touched his chest and focused on deep breaths.

Behind him, the front door’s lock clicked softly. Keys jingled. A familiar, mouth-watering scent wafted through the air. Sam hummed a tune to himself as he walked around the bar. He stopped and peered over the couch.

“Colby?”

Colby tipped his chin back to look at him.

“Hey, you hungry? I have food.”

 _Inhale, exhale._ “Yeah.” He pushed himself up while Sam sat next to him. “When did you leave? And where’d you go?”

Sam shook his head. He handed a box of chicken nuggets to Colby then reached into the bag for his sandwich. “Like an hour ago; you were already asleep. I was with Corey. He had to go to his house to pack for the trip.”

“He needed your help with that?”

“No… but the Shadowman is still trapped in his bedroom. He didn’t want to go alone.”

“ _Oh._ ” Colby tore open a sauce cup. “How’d that go?”

Sam shrugged. “Fine, I guess. It’s _really_ pissed we trapped it.”

“Kinda understandable.”

“I have no sympathy.” Sam glanced at the scratches on his arm. 

Colby huffed a laugh. He reached into the bag to grab a handful of fries. They sat quietly for a few minutes, eating and enjoying each others’ company. He ate most of the fries, but Sam stole a nugget. Even exchange.

“So um,” Colby began, “I keep having these dreams about… about my fight with Casey. They always end the same way: I don’t get out.” He tossed his empty food box into the bag sitting at their feet. “Every fucking time that I go to sleep, it’s the same thing. I don’t care; I’m getting used to it, I guess, but I’m just worried about going on this trip with people who don’t know what happened. Like,” he sighed, “we can’t get anyone else involved in this.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I agree. It needs to stay with us, and it will.” He threw his trash away. “What if we tell Elton— _I’ll_ tell Elton that you’re still freaked from what happened at the ritual tunnel.” He reached for Colby’s hand. “It’ll be okay. Corey will be there too; we have your back.”

Colby’s thumb dragged across Sam’s knuckles. He mulled over Sam’s idea. It would definitely work. There wasn’t a single person going who would ever pester him if he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Okay,” he agreed quietly. Then he laid back down, his head in Sam’s lap. He had no intention of falling asleep; he honestly just wanted him to play with his hair.

Sam did, immediately. As soon as Colby got comfortable, his fingers gently raked across his scalp and combed through his hair.

“And you know,” he added softly, “if you don’t feel up to it, we can always hop on a plane and come home.”

“We should have codewords for whenever we’re ready to leave places,” Colby joked. “I feel like we say it a lot.”

“You mean like safewords?” Sam teased. “Red? Yellow?”

“Nah.” He kissed Sam’s thigh. “You know those are reserved.”

“McNug.”

“ _No._ ”

Sam laughed. “What, why?? It’s inconspicuous, no one would question it––”

“ _Everyone_ would question it. Sam if something’s wrong, I’m not gonna walk up to you and say,” Colby whispered loudly, “ _McNug._ ”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“No. Shut up.”

Sam hummed. “Cherry.”

Colby rolled over to look at him. “Cherry?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “ _Cherry._ ”

Sam snickered. “We won’t remember this.”

“Maybe not, but the thought’s nice.” 

Colby grinned at Sam, and he adored the way his heart melted when Sam smiled back.

•••••

“Are you listening, dear?”

Hailey blinked. She looked around slowly, a gentle reminder of where she was: a funeral home in Beverly Hills. She sat at an office desk, across from an older man with a receding hairline and a binder opened in front of him. A firm grip snared her wrist; her mother-in-law Lynn Claiborne watched her carefully. 

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. Her eyes flickered between them, waiting for someone to continue. It certainly wasn’t going to be _her._ She’d been distant all morning, the reality finally settling in. Her husband was dead, actually dead, and she killed him. _She killed him._ She shut his brain down in one fell swoop without so much as a blink. What kind of monster did that, anyway? How could she not feel _anything?_

“—a burial or cremation?” the man questioned.

“We want the traditional burial,” Lynn decided.

“He wanted to be cremated,” Hailey argued softly.

“What?”

Hailey blinked again. “He was Pagan,” she explained to the man. “We practice cremation and spreading the ashes across sacred ground. There’s usually a whole ritual to go with it, but,” she looked to Lynn, “we don’t have to do that. We can have a viewing, but he won’t be buried.”

“Our family is _Catholic,_ ” Lynn stressed. “They’re expecting a _traditional Catholic funeral._ ”

“Catholics believe in cremation, right? You don’t have to tell them about spreading the ashes.” As an afterthought, she added, “But don’t tell your family a lie. He chose to be Pagan, let him die Pagan.”

Lynn sighed deeply. “Fine.” She turned to the funeral director. “We’ll have a viewing, a funeral service, then he’ll be cre–cremated.” She cleared her throat. Miraculously, that was the first waver in her voice. She appeared as dazed and confused as Hailey, though. Her shoulders hunched forward. Her fingers caught in her unbrushed black hair when she tried to rake through it. She and Hailey held the same amount of effort for makeup: foundation, eyebrows, mascara, and blush, so they can at least look alive. Lynn had brown eyes, always wide, always friendly. Even that day, when she probably wanted nothing more than to hide in her bed for the next week. Among her, her husband, and her son, she was easily the friendliest in her family. 

“Funeral with mass?” the man questioned.

“No,” Hailey answered before Lynn could. “We’re not mixing religions to appease _your_ family.” When he moved to Los Angeles, he left everything behind, including his beliefs. It was one of the things they could relate to in the beginning.

“But he’s both,” Lynn replied. “Even if he’s been Pagan for the last few years, he grew up Catholic.”

“But he doesn’t _believe_ in it.” Hailey shifted in her seat. “He doesn’t believe in the Bible or Jesus or any of that. He never has, so wouldn’t it be wrong for him to pretend in the moment it matters most?” She swallowed thickly; she wanted to melt under her mother-in-law’s fierce gaze. “Casey was a lot of things, but… don’t make him into something he’s not. He left your religion when he left your home. The right choice would be to honor it.”

Lynn didn’t respond for a few moments. Hailey didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes at the corner of the desk, away from the staring strangers. Eventually, Lynn agreed, and they moved on to the next step.

Hailey drifted.

•••••

A bright smile and pretty green eyes greeted Marcus at the front desk of the Horton Grand Hotel. He stood a few inches shorter than him, which contributed to the instant attraction when Marcus made eye contact. _Cute,_ he decided with a smirk. _Maybe a reason to come back, even if this doesn’t work out._

“Hello! Welcome to the Grand Hotel, how may I help you today?” the man questioned. He tapped his baby blue fingernails against the counter.

Marcus leaned over the desk. He rested his chin in his hand and smiled at the receptionist.

“I’m actually looking for Taylor Gambit. Is he working today?” He glanced at the employee’s name tag. “Scott?”

“Oh yeah, give me just a moment. I’ll go get him.”

When Scott turned away from the counter, Marcus fished out his phone. He typed in Sam’s number and held it to his ear as it rang. Seconds passed; the call cut short. He tried again with the same results. _God damn it,_ that guy! He didn’t have to block him! If Sam would only listen to one phone call, then maybe Marcus would leave him alone after that.

He would. He would, of course he would.

He tried again.

“Hello, how can I—”

Taylor stumbled over his feet at the sight of the familiar stranger. He hesitantly moved forward, glancing around the lobby as he went. “Who are you?” he asked guardedly.

“I’m Marcus Pierce. I don’t know if you remember, but we met a few years ago.” Marcus held his hands near his head, defensive yet peaceful. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?”

“A few things, actually. Can we sit?”

Taylor’s eyes flickered to a sitting area nearby. There were a few people around. Plenty of witnesses if things went south, they both knew.

“Sure.”

Marcus led the way to an empty pair of chairs around a shiny glass table. He checked his phone once more before putting it away.

“I’ve been developing a drug that allows people to see the entire supernatural world,” Marcus began. “I created it for protection and safety. There’s a terrifying world out there, beyond what we’ve been told.”

“Yeah?” Taylor scoffed. “And you’re exposing regular people to the horrors of it all. How is that providing protection and safety?”

“Because if they know what’s out there, they know how to handle it.”

“I hope that drug comes with a handbook to everything. Otherwise, you’re just throwing people in blind.”

“It’s only being sold in witch communities. They know how to protect themselves.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “Well, what does it have to do with me? Need more blood?” He lowered his voice. “I’m not unarmed, Marcus. If you try to attack, you won’t get far. The police station is only a few blocks away; they’ll be here in seconds.”

“I’m not going to attack you. I’m sorry for that, by the way.” Marcus wrung his hands. “All of it. It wasn’t supposed to go that way.”

“No, I was just supposed to agree without a fight, right?”

Marcus pursed his lips. “Sam wasn’t a part of that, you know.”

“What?”

“We only said that because we thought you’d trust him over us. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Cool, so you lied to trick me. Awesome.”

“I understand this is all scary and unknown, but you could help change the supernatural world forever.”

“What are you even asking me to do?”

Marcus looked around. “It’s called veil hopping,” he explained softly. “I believe only true seers can do it correctly. We enter through a vortex and collect lost souls. I usually go for the ones who have been here for centuries, the ones who will never find their way to cross over. They’re the forgotten and the easiest to capture.”

“You can’t just steal souls!” Taylor hissed. “That’ll upset the balance!”

“What _balance?_ There are countless souls just wandering the veil. No one is doing anything, they don’t belong anywhere. Taking a few hundred or so isn’t going to hurt anything.”

“You know demons feed on souls, right? Mainly the ones in the veil because those in Hell are too corrupted. If you take too many, those demons will start coming into _our_ world.”

“Which is why we _fight back._ ”

“No! You can’t take their food and then fight when they retaliate! It’s not fair.”

“You–You realize you’re defending _demons,_ right?”

“I’m defending the balance. Seers already tip the scale a bit with our power. We shouldn’t _exist._ A person shouldn’t be able to see and communicate with the dead as clearly as we can! Now you want to push those boundaries? Enter the veil as a _living soul?_ Are you crazy?”

Marcus scowled. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here. You San Diego people are so close minded.”

Taylor stood. “Whatever.”

“You’re seriously not going to help me?”

“No!” He glared. “And I’m going to make sure no one else does either.” He turned and stormed back to the desk.

“Wait—” Marcus reached for Taylor’s arm, but he was barely out of his grasp. He followed for a few steps before realizing the heavy stares boring into his back. They were in _public;_ he couldn’t fight back.

He grit his teeth. Why won’t people just listen? Why were they so difficult to reason with? His hands curled into fists. For a split second, his eyes flashed amber.

Marcus forced himself to leave. He was no help to anyone if he made a scene. Taylor wasn’t kidding, the police would be there in seconds.

Outside, he grabbed his phone. He dialed a familiar number as he marched to his car. It rang for a long while before someone finally answered.

“Hello?”

A woman. Marcus rolled his eyes. “Put Casey on the phone.”

“Marcus?”

 _Hailey._ He slouched in the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Casey?”

“He’s… he’s dead, Marcus.”

“Yeah right.” Marcus rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious. He died a few days ago. I’m with his mom right now—we just finished with the funeral preparations.”

What?

_Funeral preparations._

_WHAT?!_

His mouth fell open with a surprise gasp, but his lungs… stopped… working. That’s not possible. Not Casey. Not his––his best friend. _His best friend._

His breathing staggered as he choked for air.

“How?” he demanded softly.

Hailey didn’t answer. He growled, “Tell me, damn it! How did he die? Who did this to him?! Say something, you––”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I don’t know what happened, okay? The police said it was a heart attack.”

“Casey didn’t have heart problems,” he spat. His cheeks were hot with rage; if this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears.

“… Right.”

His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. “I’m gonna find out.”

Hailey sighed. “Marcus—”

“I’m gonna find out, and I’m gonna _make them pay._ They’re going to regret _ever_ touching him—” He grit his teeth. “There’s a reason I have a reputation, Hailey.”

“I know,” she answered softly.

Marcus turned his car on. He turned to glare up at the Grand Hotel.

His eyes darkened with a startling combination. 

One side shone a stone cold amber. The other flared fiery red that rivaled the angry tint in his face. Heaviness settled in the air around him.

It’s time to show the world what Marcus Pierce was truly capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorryyyy for these filler chapters but they're just setups for greater things :')
> 
> i totally didn't plan on that first solby scene happening but now they have a codeword & i can't wait to use it 
> 
> thank you thank you for reading!!! i love you all :))


	4. red is the new black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reggie's suspicion about the drug continues to flourish; a coven leader from San Diego stops in for a visit; the Utah trip begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally figured out how to correctly make an em dash in google docs, which fixed it here as well. now there's actual punctuation and not just -- and it all looks *chef's kiss*

Valentina Cruse’s morning routine functioned like clockwork. It was the same everyday: wake up at 6, a medium white chocolate hot mocha from Starbucks at 6:30, a quick check-in at her coven thirty minutes later, then she made it to her photography studio by 8, just in time to open for the day. She loved her routine; it was comforting, and most importantly, predictable.

The process strengthened her intuition. If everything went according to plan, the day would run as smoothly as the routine. If ever a hiccup in any step, she knew to prepare for something unordinary.

Friday really threw her for a loop, though. Not only did her alarm not go off until 6:30 but Starbucks was also backed up due to a machine malfunction. She made it through the drive-thru at 7:30 and considered not even stopping by the coven before work. She’d be by later of course, but she always liked popping in to visit with her favorite early birds to start the day.

Val had a photoshoot at nine that she needed to prepare for beforehand. Still, she chose to visit the library first. Something constricted in her chest. This day was not like any other. Something drastic had happened, or it was about to. She needed to be there. At least stop in, warn her closest friends to be alert, remind them that she’s only a phone call away.

The witches of San Diego found a sanctuary in an abandoned observatory miles from city limits. Its walls were vast and stretched to the edge of a cliff that overlooked the city. Nature swallowed most of its brick face and gated archway in fresh green moss and vines. At the center of the building stood a grand dome with pieces of its roofing chipping away little by little each year. 

With the large telescope long since removed, the witches converted the observation deck into a flourishing greenhouse. Valentina adored that room the most. If the day had gone as planned, she would be milling about, watering the plants while enjoying her coffee and chatting with her friends. _Later,_ she supposed with a sigh.

A pair of twins, two young men named Aiden and Hayden, greeted her with a bright grin to rival her own and quickly waved as she rushed past. They were among her early bird group. Usually they were the first in the observatory, practicing earth magic and competing to see who could grow the tallest sunflower. Hayden almost always won.

She passed many others on her way to her office, and she made sure to call each by their names. One of the responsibilities she personally upheld as High Priestess was remembering each member by name. She often tried checking in with people as well, either on their magical growth or personal. It all made her happy, being so involved with her coven. They were her family.

“You have a message on line one Val,” Jo called as Val passed her office. Jo was Val’s right-hand woman and best friend of seven years. They lived together up until last spring when Jo moved in with her fiancé.

“Thanks!” Val called with an absent wave. She really needed to be at work right now. Her phone said eight AM. _Tsk._

She kicked the door shut with her heel while leaning forward to press a button on her phone.

“One new message,” it announced. Val collapsed in her office chair with an exhausted huff. She looked over her messy desk, muttering ways to organize it better.

Then an unfamiliar masculine voice interrupted, “Hi, um, my name is Taylor Gambit. I work at the Horton Grand Hotel in downtown San Diego. I, uh, I was just recently in contact with Marcus Pierce.”

Val raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not a witch, but I still know how dangerous he is. He used to be a part of COLA—Coven of Los Angeles. I think he’s hiding out somewhere in LA, but you should know that he’s been through San Diego a few times. The last two visits—” he paused to inhale a shaky breath— “he’s put people in danger. He attacked me for help with a new drug that allows people to see the supernatural world. It’s like the demonic Sight, but _stronger._ ” Taylor sighed. “I don’t know how coven jurisdiction works. I don’t know if you can even do anything about this, but I’m freaking the fuck out right now. I don’t have any fucking magic. I have a family that I can’t protect from him. I’m just… I’m scared.” He breathed the last word as his voice faltered.

Taylor cleared his throat and pushed his emotions aside. “I just thought you should know about this. He’s a big deal in the magic world, right? At least I could give you a heads up.”

The machine kicked off. Val stared in silence at the phone. She reached for it hesitantly, testing options in her head, trying to decide the best move. Her fingers brushed over the phone’s base, still questioning her ideas. Marcus wasn’t in her city, so technically, she couldn’t do much. However, he threatened a San Diego citizen, and that _was_ her problem.

A loud dial tone rang as she pressed the phone to her ear. She leaned forward on the desk and tapped her nails against a stack of PostIts.

“Hello?” he answered.

Val smiled. “Hi, Taylor Gambit. I’m Valentina Cruse, High Priestess of the San Diego Coven. I want to speak to you about the message you left.”

••••••••••

Two whole days without the influence of the supernatural Sight left Jake feeling _fine._ Really, he felt better than ever… if you look past the fatigue and random angry outbursts.

 _Outburst_ was a strong word. It was more brief irritation than anything, and it wasn’t even his fault! The Postmates guy forgot dipping sauces, even though Jake _definitely_ included honey mustard in his meal order. A woman in front of him at Walmart held up the line because she just had to use _every fucking coupon in her purse._ It was like the world planned to act against him that day.

Reggie came over to hangout and certainly _not_ ask a ton of questions about the supernatural world—but he couldn’t help himself. They were on the couch, Reggie making random assumptions about whether ghosts were actually real and Jake answering half-heartedly while he tried turning his TV on. The remote wouldn’t work, though. No matter how many times he twisted his wrist, the sensor wouldn’t line up with the TV. He tried over and over and over until he was sure he’d break the button. 

With a growl, Jake launched the remote at the TV. The batteries fell out when it hit the floor, and they rolled under the TV stand.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Reggie shouted.

“The stupid thing wouldn’t turn on,” Jake groaned.

“And you thought throwing it would work?!”

“Maybe!” 

Reggie’s face softened as his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” Jake sighed. “It’s been a few days since I’ve had the Sight.”

“Oh.” Reggie chuckled. “You’re having withdrawals.”

“They’re not withdrawals; I’m not an addict. I’m just… having a bad day. You know, it’s probably ‘cause I’m really tired.”

“Did you go to sleep last night?”

Jake scowled at the mocking tone. “ _Yes._ I just don’t feel like I got enough.”

“Hmm.” Reggie grabbed his phone. He opened Safari and glanced at his brother, thinking. His fingers tapped against the side of the phone, then he typed a question.

**_Symptoms of drug withdrawal?_ **

_Agitation, irritability, restlessness_

_Sleeping difficulty_

“Things are so weird without it,” Jake continued. “Like, the world feels different. It’s so _boring._ Now that I’ve seen things for what they really are… I don’t know. I feel weird.”

_Feeling detached from self_

Reggie read through the rest of the symptoms. He watched Jake, who stared at the coffee table with a blank look in his eyes.

“Hey, you wanna go get some food?” he asked and stood up without an answer.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well I am, so come on. I’ll drive.”

Jake grumbled an agreement. His movements were sluggish, and Reggie couldn’t figure out which symptom that fell into. In truth, he didn’t want to figure it out. He didn’t want to identify _anything_ as a symptom for withdrawal. The last thing he thought he’d be doing on a Friday afternoon was analyzing his little brother for _addiction indicators._

“Maybe it’s a good thing you ran out,” he tried reasoning as they stepped into the hallway. “You’ve only had bad reactions to it this whole time.”

“But I like it. It—” Jake caught himself. He shook his head.

“What?”

Jake gnawed on his lower lip. He shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. Reggie watched carefully, nervously.

“It just… does more than you think. It’s important.”

“What does that even _mean? ”_

“Forget it.” Jake shrugged and managed a weak smile. “Let’s get going, okay? I’m craving Wendy’s.”

Reggie cocked an eyebrow. “Thought you weren’t hungry?”

“Well, now I’m starving. Let’s gooo.”

Jake headed for the elevator. Reggie hesitantly followed a few steps behind.

••••••••••

Sam, although he and Colby were already promised a bed besides the loft, bolted for the RV as soon as they saw it with a yell that he was going to get the best spot. Corey was hot on his heels, shouting in protest.

“You don’t even have a key!” he accused when they neared the vehicle. He slowed down as he realized this.

Sam jogged backward. He held a key ring in front of his grinning face.

“No!”

Sam struggled enough with the key when he reached the door that Corey caught up easily. Behind them, Elton teased, “They were doing great until they had to open the door.”

The boys cheered when the lock clicked. Corey pushed past Sam with a triumphant shout and scrambled into the RV. They took a moment to appreciate the interior: a nice kitchen with marble counters and a stove, a booth beside the kitchen with leather seats, and a matching couch against the other wall. The floor was wooden, similar to the RV they rented in Australia.

Corey jolted forward when he spotted a bed at the end of the hall.

“Corey!” Sam cried. He lunged for him, hands snagging Corey’s arm just before he was out of reach. “Dude, there’s a ghost in here.”

“What?!”

“Ha!” Sam raced past.

Laughter directed the others to the back room. Elton led the way with his camera, making sure to film the interior as he went.

Sam spoke first when they neared, “Are you good??” 

“I can’t _believe_ you _pushed me into the wall!”_

“Nooo that was _your_ fault!”

Elton, Andrea, and Colby squeezed into the doorway. Elton shuffled further, panning back and forth between the couple sprawled across the bed to the others. 

“Uh guys?” he snickered. “Are we interrupting?”

The bed was just big enough to fit in the room with small spaces between the walls. A tight squeeze, sure, but probably the comfiest mattress of all. 

Sam lay on his back at the edge of the bed, trapped in a tight hold around his waist by Corey, who had rolled into the space post-collison. Their faces were red from laughing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam swore.

“No, it’s _exactly_ what it looks like.” Corey draped his leg over Sam. “Solby who? I only know Sorey.”

Sam looked at Colby with feigned regret. “I’m Sorey it has to be this way.”

Andrea and Elton snorted. Corey barked with laughter. _“Sorey!_ Hahaha!”

“No, no it’s okay,” Colby decided. He chewed on his lip. “As long as I can join.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam offered his hand. “There’s room for one more.”

Colby flopped onto the bed. He wrapped his hand around Sam’s neck and left butterfly kisses across his cheek.

“OKAYY…” Elton teased. Everybody laughed.

“Wha—hey,” Corey whined. “Leave some for me.”

Sam turned his head. He and Corey leaned in, despite the quiet protests from Colby. Their lips stopped inches from each other before they broke into a laugh.

Elton was already walking away, muttering something about getting demonetized.

“This is actually our bed though,” Sam declared.

“No way. I didn’t suffer a concussion for this.”

“One, you’re not concussed. Two, _you_ fell into the wall.”

“You pushed me!”

“You jumped on me!”

“How come you guys get the big bed?”

Colby curled his leg around Sam’s. He nuzzled closer. “We always slept in the loft on these trips,” he reminded. “I think we deserve the big bed.”

“Plus, I got here first,” Sam added with a smirk.

“Fine.” Corey sighed and fished out his phone. He switched to the camera and held it above. “For the gram. And my scrapbook.”

They snickered and laughed. Instead of looking at the camera, Colby kissed Sam’s cheek with his eyes closed. Unbeknownst to him, Corey had the same idea. Between them, Sam’s face reddened as he fought back a laugh.

“Okay, can we like," he waved his hands. "I need some space guys. It’s hot.”

“Yeah,” Colby purred. He and Corey shared amused smirks. “We know.” His finger trailed Sam's jawline.

Corey poked Sam's arm. “Hey, were you lying earlier?”

“About what?”

“The ghost.”

“Oh.” Sam pressed his lips into a sheepish grin. “No.”

Corey whined. “Of course Elton would get the haunted RV. Are they… around?”

Sam lifted his head long enough to glance around then lay back down. “He’s in the doorway.” 

Colby hugged Sam’s waist tighter. He pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Did he,” Corey asked hesitantly, “like, did he die in here?”

Sam tried sitting up again, and this time they let him. He leaned on his elbows and looked the man over, sizing him up. He wasn’t from this century for sure, maybe not the previous either. He stood tall, at least Corey’s height, clad in a black suit with a white undershirt. His short black hair was gelled back and flat against his head. He had a white flipped up collar around his neck. The tops brushed against his earlobes.

“Hey,” Sam called quietly, loud enough for that room but not for the next. “Did you die in here?” He knew at least half of the answer by the man’s clothing and bloodied chest. The center of his suit had been ripped to shreds, and deep, angry red gashes painted his skin. Now that he looked, Sam could see bruises along the man’s hands. Gel didn’t flatten his hair. Instead, it was matted with blood. Sam swallowed thickly.

Silence.

“Yo,” Sam waved, “Amish dude. _Why are you here?”_

Still nothing.

He laid back down with a huff. “Not talking.”

 _“Awesome,”_ Corey said. With nothing left to do but bask in the uncomfortable glare that they could _all_ feel, subconsciously or not, they decided to rejoin their friends. He climbed to his feet first, and Sam and Colby followed. They took a seat at the booth across from Andrea. 

While everybody settled in and claimed their beds, Sam scrolled through his phone. Colby leaned into him, and he leaned back with his head on his shoulder. He focused on the warmth pressed against his side and not on the man glowering at everyone from the front door (he would surely get annoying quickly). 

Sam almost opened a voicemail left by Taylor, but then Andrea sat across from him with a deck of cards. She dealt him, Colby, and Corey into a game of BS. At the front, Elton took the driver’s seat and began their roadtrip.

Eventually Corey circled back to the table after he worked out how to get into the loft and get back down. The others paused to watch him tentatively climb on furniture and hoist himself into the small space. Getting down was more entertaining as he went feet first, inching slowly over the edge, thrashing his legs about, and pointing his toes, desperate to touch the back of the booth seat that got him up there in the first place.

He sat next to Andrea with an exhausted huff.

Colby grinned at him. “The beauty of the loft.”

Corey scoffed. “I’m gonna roll out of that thing in the middle of the night.”

“Nah, we all know you won’t be near the edge,” Sam declared. Everybody looked at him. He teased, “You’ll be cuddling Elton all night.”

 _“Sam!”_ he gasped, scandalized. “How dare you out me like that!”

“You’re cheating on me!”

“No!” Corey reached across the table and grabbed Sam’s hand. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Sam couldn’t fight a smile, so he buried his face in Colby’s shoulder for only a second before Colby shrugged him off.

“No, no, no, you can’t do this,” he decided with a head shake. 

For a split, _split_ second, Sam’s stomach lurched, and they were back in the parking lot after the ritual. He hesitantly backed off. 

Colby joked, _“You_ cheated on _me!”_

“Whore,” Andrea scoffed while distributing the last of the cards. She held her straight face for mere seconds before she and the rest of the table burst into laughter. 

Sam’s chest loosened with the laughing. Breathing was easier. He squeezed Colby’s hand under the table.

“Who has the Ace of Spades?” Andrea asked.

Colby tossed the card onto the table, and the game began. Normalcy clicked into place once more. Nobody spoke about demons or witches or werewolves. They didn’t share theories about the Global Drug. Spells never once crossed Colby’s mind, and Sam spared only a glance toward the hovering spirit every once and a while. 

Corey was in the lead. Andrea had an annoying talent for picking out the liars while managing to slip by on her own. Sam _almost_ narrowed his hand to eight cards, but then Colby betrayed him and made him pick up the whole deck. They joked, they laughed, they sharpened their lying skills.

Things were good.

••••••••••

Jake felt better with ice cream. His movements were sluggish, like he could pass out at any second. But he spoke animatedly. A child on a sugar high with eyes bright as the sun. The symptoms for this drug were weird.

 _“I’m_ just saying, I don’t think they should share the hype,” he declared with a careless wave. They stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall. “Riding a camel isn’t as cool as riding an elephant.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “Have you done either of those things?”

“No, but I just feel like elephants are cooler. They’re bigger, for one. And they can like, drink through their nose. What can camels do?”

“They store water in their back.”

“Right, like what the fuck?” Jake licked his ice cream and hummed. “Oh, I can ask Sam and Colby.”

Reggie took his ice cream before he dropped it because it was surely inevitable. They slowed their step while Jake composed a text to their group. It wasn’t the friend group chat with Kevin and Aryia and everyone else. This started with the main four, and then it grew as their team did. Eventually it became _Occult_ (named by Hailey): Sam, Colby, Jake, Corey, Hailey, and Reggie. There were two groups, one on iMessage and the other Snapchat. They used Snapchat more, mainly to send dumb pictures of each other. Hailey mostly read through the conversations. She spoke more to Sam and Colby, but she was beginning to warm up to Corey and Jake.

Snapchat came first, and shortly after its creation, Corey said _I knew we were a cult._ Hailey didn’t respond, but Colby sent a video of her shaking her head with a tiny smile. They made her laugh sometimes, even if she’d never admit it.

Jake spoke as he typed, “Which animal is cooler: elephants or camels?”

_Sam: Camels_

_Colby: elephants_

_Colby: sam is biased. he stole a camel in egypt_

_Sam: I didn’t steal him. They gave him to me because I was the king. I miss him :(_

Reggie nodded toward Jake’s apartment, and they continued. Jake pocketed his phone and reached for his ice cream.

“I guess I choose elephants,” Reggie admitted after a moment. “They have a whole back. Do people ride between the humps of camels? Or are there seats?”

“I think there are seats, but they don’t look comfortable. They’re made of wood or something.”

“That’s worse than riding a horse.”

_“Exactly!”_

Hailey rounded the corner when they were about to enter Jake’s apartment. Clearly, she was heading somewhere important. Her black dress hugged her form from the tight collar around her neck and biceps to her waist, where it flared out into a full skirt. She stood a few inches taller in a pair of black stilettos; now she rivaled Jake’s height. Her hair—light brown instead of fading silver, hello—curved around her head and down one shoulder in a tight fishtail braid. She tied it with a white ribbon.

She paused just past the corner. Her eyebrows rose, and she greeted with surprise evident in her tone, “Hello.”

“Hey,” Reggie replied with a small wave.

“Hi.” Jake looked her over. “You look pretty. Party?”

Reggie elbowed him. Hard.

Hailey chuckled though. She reached up to brush her hair out of her face, even though there wasn’t even a misplaced strand.

“Thank you. Actually, I’m on my way to a funeral. Casey’s.”

Jake’s entire emotional evolution as his realization kicked in showed perfectly on his face. First his original expression fell as he processed the information, then his eyes widened and his eyebrows rose to their highest setting. His jaw clenched. He turned to Reggie, embarrassed and regretting ever opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breathed. “Fuck, that was really insensitive.”

“No, it’s okay. I needed a laugh.”

Jake looked down at himself, Reggie, then to Hailey. “Can you wait here for like, five minutes?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. She clicked her phone on to check the time. “I guess so?”

“Cool.” Jake dragged Reggie into his apartment and pushed the door shut. “We’re going to the funeral.”

“What?!”

“I feel bad that she’s going alone! It’s her _husband’s_ funeral.”

“Yeah, and do you know _why_ it’s her husband’s funeral?” Reggie demanded. “Because _she killed him.”_

“She saved us!”

“What if his family is as dangerous as him?”

“Then that’s more of a reason for us to go! She might need backup!”

Jake pulled off his shirt as he walked back to his room. He already wore black jeans and shoes, but the white t-shirt wouldn’t cut it. He tossed the old on his bed and searched his closet for a new shirt.

Reggie followed. “What the hell do you think we’re going to do?” he demanded. “You’re a—what’re people with the Sight called?”

“Seers.”

“You’re a washed up seer, and I’m just a regular person! She’d be better off going by herself!”

Jake tugged on a plain black t-shirt. “If Sam and Colby were here, they’d go with her.” He looked at Reggie, mainly to check his outfit. Black on black with a small white logo over his left breast. Good enough.

Reggie sighed. “Of course they would. She’s better friends with Sam and Colby, isn’t she?”

“I just think she could use some support right now. A friend.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll let us go. This is a family ceremony, and we barely know the widow.”

Jake shrugged. “If she doesn’t want us to go, we won’t. But at least we offered.”

Reggie shook his head. “Fine,” he caved. “Fine, whatever.” He glanced at Jake as they walked back to the living room. “Only because we won’t stay long with you looking like that. They’ll kick us out.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

His outfit wasn’t the problem, not really. It would do for a last minute funeral, but his shirt had short sleeves. Reggie didn’t want to admit that the tattoos—the sleeve down his right arm—would draw the most attention. If Casey’s family was anything like Hailey, they wouldn’t care about the strangers walking in with her. They’d zero in on the _sinful markings_ carved into his skin. He tsked.

“Nothing, never mind. I just hope these people aren’t stuck up.”

Hailey drew her eyebrows together in confusion when they stepped back into the hallway.

“Why did you make me wait?” she asked.

“I had to change,” Jake answered, “cause we’re going to the funeral with you.”

She blinked. “What?”

He added quickly, “If it’s okay with you.”

Reggie explained, “He—we—want to go with you for support and stuff.” He shared a look with Jake. “You look like you could use some friends… even if we aren’t Sam and Colby.”

Hailey’s eyes glistened under the hallway light. She stared in shock at the brothers, and slowly, her mouth curved into a smile. 

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said genuinely. “Thank you.”

Jake nudged Reggie with his elbow, beaming like a proud child. Reggie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. They were all fairly happy and please, everything considered. Hailey offered to drive with the jingle of her keys. They headed for the elevator.

••••••••••

Outside of a gorgeous white Catholic church—two bell towers topped with golden domes and matching crosses framed a shorter structure in the center, also finished with an identical cross at the tip of its steeple—in Beverly Hills, a sleek red Mustang convertible rolled to a stop. A black hardtop rose from the back and unfolded over the car with a smooth hum. Curious children passing with their parents stopped to watch in awe before they were tugged down the sidewalk.

The driver’s door popped open, and a tall dark skinned woman stepped out. Her simple dress hugged her hips more than anything, which she didn’t appreciate but everything was so last minute. She wore a high ponytail. Her black hair ombréd into emerald green and amethyst purple. Family members heading for the church—noses scrunched up in that typical, rich white people fashion—stared and murmured at her presence. She smirked like their disbelief gave her power.

A man in black stopped her at the door. His robe had a black collar with a white square in the center. A priest, she realized. A _Catholic_ priest.

“Are you a family member or friend of the Claibornes?” he asked with genuine kindness, though she could sense distrust in his eyes.

She nodded. “A friend… of Hailey Claiborne.”

The woman shook his hand with a small smile.

“I’m Valentina Cruse.”


	5. till death do us part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rest in peace, casey claiborne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not even writing this for solby anymore. i'm here for one woman and she is: hailey claiborne

“We won’t be long,” Hailey promised. She turned off her car and gazed up at the towering white church. “I just have to make an appearance, then we can leave.”

Behind her, the Webber brothers shared a look. Jake reassured, “It’s okay. We don’t have to rush… it _is_ your husband’s funeral. Even if he was a major dick.” Reggie elbowed him. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

She turned to them. “I want to rush because _I_ want to, not because you’re with me.”

 _Maybe her guilt is finally catching up,_ Reggie wondered. His hands twitched. 

People stared when they walked into the church. It was unnerving, even to those who were used to the attention. Reggie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He glanced at Jake, whose eyes were unfocused and glossy. He didn’t look right. Reggie clenched his jaw.

A couple intercepted the trio, a man and woman. The woman was short, about Hailey’s height, with black hair braided into a bun and dull brown eyes decorated with black liner. Next to her stood a man, tall, broad shoulders, short black hair. He had green eyes, thankfully. And he had a bigger, curved nose than the woman. For a split second, they looked too much alike. Reggie wondered if murder was the least of their family problems.

“Hailey,” the woman said with a tight smile. She hugged Hailey with as little touch as she could manage, like rich people who don’t want to be caught with feelings.

“Lynn, Cain, how are you all doing?” Hailey asked.

“As well as we can be, I suppose.” Lynn dabbed at her eye with a tissue. She looked around the church. “Everything looks nice, though. Doesn’t it?”

It did. Reggie, thankfully, didn’t have a lot of funeral experiences. This was the most extravagant he could remember, though. Flowers, everywhere. A large pot sat in each stained glass window. Dozens of red roses. Like, _dozens._ Far more than Reggie ever expected a madman to want at his funeral. Or ever.

“I didn’t expect there to be so many,” Hailey said quietly. She swallowed thickly as she looked around the church. There were tears in her eyes now.

“I know we only agreed on a few bouquets, but you know how much he loved your roses. I thought this would be an appropriate farewell.”  
Hailey turned her head to wipe her eye. Reggie could see her lower lip tremble.

Lynn pulled her into another hug. This was tighter, stronger than the last. They held onto each other like they were lifelines. They whispered to each other, words of comfort that only they could hear. Finally they pulled away, and both of their eyes were red and glossy.

Reggie and Jake shared a look. Jake’s gaze fell to the ground.

When Lynn and Cain moved on to the next guest, Hailey turned to the boys. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“They were Casey’s parents,” she explained. “Lynn and I planned this a few days ago, but I wasn’t expecting… the roses….” She covered her mouth as she began to cry.

“What’s wrong with roses?” Reggie asked.

“It goes back to my parents. My dad loves to garden. His favorite things to grow are roses. I grew up to fresh roses in the middle of the table every morning. My mom loved them. When I moved here and felt homesick, red roses always made me think of home. Casey tried keeping up the tradition, but I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t think he’d ruin it, but red roses don’t mean love or romance for me.” She sniffed again. “They mean home. They mean my parents and my childhood and—” She laughed this time, and more tears fell.

To Reggie’s surprise, Jake wrapped his arms around Hailey. He hugged her tight and rested his chin on her head. She cried into his chest. Reggie stepped back, subconsciously giving them space.

“Thank you,” he heard her whisper. She tentatively stepped out of his embrace. After a few deep breaths, she said, “I’m going to freshen up in the restroom. I’ll be back. Don’t talk to anyone.”

Reggie chuckled. “Yeah, no problem there.”

They watched her exit out the back doors. People stared at her the whole time, and then they switched their attention to the boys. Reggie and Jake pretended not to notice.

“I didn’t know you guys were so close.”

Jake shrugged. “We’re not really. We’re like, at the edge of being friends. But only because she’s a closed off person. I mean, we did help save Sam. And I gave her a ride back to her apartment, so we’ve talked before.”

“How do you trust her?” Reggie asked quietly. “You know she killed Casey.”

“Yeah, but you saw how crazy he was.” Jake stepped forward and lowered his voice. “I don’t know much about their relationship, but you know it was pretty shitty. And just the way she talks about him, even after he’s dead. Plus, he fucking mind wiped me, dude.”

“He _what?!”_ Reggie stared. “What does that even mean?!”

“A few months ago, he cornered Sam when we were in the parking lot. He spelled me to go upstairs and forget everything about the encounter.”

Reggie clenched his jaw. He looked to the open casket in front of the stage. They told him the story, caught him up, but nobody ever mentioned that somebody messed with Jake. 

“So he was a bastard,” he spat. _A motherfucking bastard._ He swallowed his anger and looked back at Jake. “Hailey killing him doesn’t freak you out?”

“Yeah, of course it does.” Jake pulled at his bracelet. “But Sam seeing dead people freaks me out too. So does Colby performing magic—though it’s usually pretty cool. But he participated in a _literal_ Pagan ritual with a sacrifice and everything. _That_ freaks me out. It all freaks me out, but,” he shrugged, “I’m getting used to it. Plus, she did it to save us. She’s on _our_ side. Doesn’t that make it a little better?”

“I don’t know.”

Hailey looked better when she returned. The tear streaks were gone, and her eyes weren’t puffy. She was stopped by an older woman with short brown hair.

Jake tilted his head. “She looks familiar.”

“The fifty year old?”

“Yeah. She was outside the church the first time Sam and I went to it. Colby was trying to give himself the demonic Sight, and then he went blind for a day. It was crazy.”

Sounded crazy. All of it sounded crazy.

Hailey and the woman spoke for a few minutes. Then they hugged and parted ways. She rejoined the boys.

“Better?” she asked when she neared.

Reggie nodded. “Yeah, you look as heartless as the rest of the people here.” He spoke without thinking, and now Jake was elbowing _him_ in the side.

She chuckled, though. “Perfect.”

Oh?

Another person approached—a tall dark skinned woman. She smiled and offered her hand.

“Hello, I’m Valentine Cruse,” she introduced. She shook their hands.

Hailey’s eyes narrowed as she smiled. “You sound familiar.”

“I’m the High Priestess of the San Diego Coven. I’m here on business, but I heard about your husband.” She squeezed Hailey’s shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss, Hailey. He was a good man.”

Reggie pressed his lips together.

“Thank you, Valentina.”

“Call me Val.” She smiled.

“Val. Thank you for making the journey, you didn’t have to. What business are you here for?”

“Oh, it can wait until another day. I promise.”

Hailey waved her hand. “It’s okay. I could use a distraction.”

Val’s eyes narrowed. Then she glanced at the boys. She stared like they were a complex puzzle.

“Truthfully, I think I’m looking for one of your witches. I don’t know his name, but he’s friends with Taylor Gambit.”

Hailey lifted her chin. Jake stood up straighter. Reggie raised an eyebrow at them.

Val looked pleased. “So you _do_ know him,” she laughed. “Who is he?”

“What do you want with him?”

She smiled genuinely. “I have no ill intentions, I swear. I’d just like to talk.”

“He’s out of town,” Jake said.

Reggie didn’t know who they were even talking about—Sam or Colby?

Val sighed. “Look, Taylor called me this morning and told me about Marcus Pierce. He said he was attacked and threatened to help with the new Global Drug. I know Marcus used to be a member of your coven, and I know he was exiled. I also know he never truly left the city, so he’s here. Somewhere. I know I don’t have any power here, but he attacked a San Diego citizen, and that’s not okay with me.”

“You’re not the police,” Hailey said dryly.

“He attacked a San Diego citizen with _magic_. As a High Priestess, it’s my job to take care of it. I know you’re in mourning, but….”

“I know. I understand.” Hailey nodded. “We’re trying to stop him, too. Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait until our friends get back.”

“How long will that be?”

Hailey turned to Reggie and Jake. Jake hummed. “A week. I think,” he said. 

Reggie nodded. 

Val smiled. “Okay, perfect. I’ll keep in touch then.” She squeezed Hailey’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Hailey returned her smile.

When they were alone, Reggie asked, “Which friend were we talking about?”

“Sam,” Hailey said. “Taylor Gambit is a seer.”

“And why would Marcus attack him?”

“We explained this, dude,” Jake groaned.

“Explain it again! That was all a lot to take in at once.”

Jake huffed. “We think seer blood activates the drug.”

“No, we know that’s what activates it,” Hailey argued. “Marcus told Sam that.”

“Is Sam a secret?”

“Not if he doesn’t want to be, but I know he doesn’t like magic very much. If he doesn’t want to get involved with another coven, I won’t make him. Colby and I can talk to her.”

“Is she… Do you know her?”

“I know _of_ her. We’ve never met in person, but I know of all the coven leaders in the state. High Priests and High Priestesses keep tabs on each other.”

“Are you a High Priestess?” Jake asked.

Hailey shrugged. “Technically, yes. I don’t like calling myself that, though. It’s too formal.”

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Reggie said.

She cracked a smile. “Sometimes.”

A woman sat at the piano on the stage and began playing a soft piece. The priest stepped up to a microphone behind the casket. He announced, “In fifteen minutes, we’re going to close the casket and begin the ceremony. Please begin taking your seats.”

Hailey’s fingers smoothed the ends of her dress. She glanced at the casket at the front of the church. Lynn and Cain were up there now, peering over their son and trying not to cry. Lynn was, anyway. Cain remained as emotionless as earlier. Maybe there was something to be said about that, but Reggie didn’t look too hard into it. This was still a funeral.

“Do you wanna go up there?” Jake asked.

Hailey licked her lips. “No, I’m fine. He is permanently engraved into my mind. I don’t need to see him.”

“Then…,” Jake looked at Reggie as he gestured to a pew, “I guess we should take a seat.”

The ceremony lasted an hour. Reggie expected a whole Catholic presentation with mass and everything, but there wasn’t anything of the sort. Casey’s parents each shared a story about him. Ruth. Other strangers. The priest stood and offered a last call for anyone who would like to speak, and he directed it to Hailey. A few others, including Lynn and Cain, turned to look at her.

She didn’t move. People whispered.

The priest closed the ceremony with prayer. Then, people got up to leave.

“Are we driving to the cemetery?” Jake asked.

Hailey shook her head. “He’s not being buried. I’m coming back in a few hours after he’s been cremated to spread his ashes at my church. It’s Pagan tradition,” she added when she saw the confusion in their eyes.

“Pagan?” somebody spat. It was Cain, standing at the end of their pew.

Lynn clung to his arm. “I told you that, dear,” she said.

“You didn’t tell me it was for a _Pagan ritual.”_ He snarled like those were forbidden words. “I wondered why you didn’t speak for my son up there, but now I know. You’re a devil worshipper.”

“Hey,” Jake warned.

Hailey grabbed his arm. “No, it’s okay.” She tugged him the other way. 

Reggie followed. He could feel people staring at them. He knew they weren’t getting away that easily.

“How did my son really die, Hailey?” Cain demanded. He blocked her at the door. “Was it truly a heart attack, or did you cast a spell on him?”

Hailey looked to Lynn for help. No such luck. Lynn stood behind Cain, head ducked, staring at the ground.

“Your son was Pagan as well,” Hailey finally spoke when she met Cain’s eyes. “I know you don’t like to admit it, but it’s true. He left your Catholic beliefs behind, and he became a _High Priest_ for a _coven_ of witches. He chose that path all on his own, I assure you.”

“He was brainwashed by you—” His nostrils flared as he looked Jake over— “you _barbarians!”_

Hailey shook her head. “Believe whatever you want, but Casey Claiborne died with magic in him. He was not Catholic. He didn’t believe in your God. He was not one of your people, he was mine. And I will give him the same farewell that every member of our community receives because, despite who he was and what he did, he deserves it. He deserves a chance to go to Summerland and be reincarnated into his next life, whether you believe in it or not.”

She glared at the crowd that had gathered around them. They all looked disgusted and horrified. The worst part was it wasn’t all directed at her. Some of the elderly regarded Jake and his tattoos with disdain and repulsion. Jake didn’t seem to mind. Of course not. He never let people get under his skin. Still, Reggie glowered at everyone looking at him the wrong way.

“By the way,” Hailey added loudly, so everyone and God himself could hear, “we don’t worship Satan. Why? _Because we don’t believe in him._ Satan belongs to _you,_ the Almighty God believers. In other words, he’s _your_ problem. Not ours.”

She shoved past Cain. Reggie and Jake followed. They stormed through the first door and onto the second, almost home free. Then Hailey stopped.

Ruth stood by the front door. Val was on the other side. There were others around them, nobody Reggie knew, but he could take a few guesses. They smiled at Hailey.

 _“That’s_ what I call a High Priestess,” Val said with a grin.

Hailey’s stance never wavered. Reggie couldn’t see, but he pictured her smiling. Proudly. It’s how she walked, anyway. Like nothing could tear her down.

Reggie really believed nothing could.

••••••••••

Hailey tried to shake the boys after the ceremony. Kind of. She didn’t tell them to leave, but she did remind them that they didn’t have to be there.

“Surely you have better things to do than drive around with me,” she said. “You can leave, I won’t mind. I only have to spread his ashes at the church.”

“If you _really_ want us to leave, we will,” Jake replied. “But actually, I think this is kind of cool. Not the funeral, obviously. Though, you telling those old farts off was pretty badass.”

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed. “I have nothing better to do anyways. Except maybe film a video, but I still have a few days before I upload.”

So, they returned to the church a few hours later. The priest presented her with a white metal urn.

“I apologize on behalf of the Catholic church,” he said when she turned to leave. “We’ve a history of disregarding beliefs that don’t match our own, if you remember the days of Catholic and Protestants. Many have evolved from that mindset, and we’re open to learning about different cultures. Some have not. Those are the ones I apologize for.”

Hailey smiled. “Thank you, but you don’t have to apologize. I know Pagans have a bad rep. I’ve come to expect that kind of behavior, especially from his family.”

His smile was sad. “I wish you didn’t have to.”

Outside, Hailey put the urn in the backseat next to Reggie. She turned to leave, then stopped. Quickly, she pulled the seatbelt across the urn. Reggie watched in disbelief.

“I don’t want it to fall,” she explained, biting back a laugh.

“I could’ve made sure it wouldn’t fall,” Reggie said. He did laugh.

Jake turned in his seat to look at it. After the ceremony, they went to get food. Jake hopped in the front the next time they got in the car. Apparently, they were both comfortable enough with each other to share the front now.

“I can’t believe that the guy who almost killed Colby is in there.”

“He almost killed me too,” Reggie added.

Jake nodded. “And he wiped my memory.”

“And took my first love. My first everything,” Hailey said softly. The boys looked at her, but she was staring at the steering wheel. She clenched her jaw.

Reggie tore his eyes from her and settled on the urn. He didn’t understand much a few days ago. He couldn’t imagine how his friends were letting this stranger get away with murder, but… but he was beginning to get it now.

Nobody waited for them at Hailey’s church, to Reggie’s surprise. He expected the coven to gather for a ritual. 

Apparently, so did Jake. “Are there supposed to be people here?” he asked. “Ruth? That Valentina girl?”

Hailey shook her head. She turned the car off and stepped outside. The boys followed. “I told them I wanted to do this alone. We won’t do the whole ritual; it’s not needed. I’ll spread his ashes, say a prayer, and that’ll be it.”

Reggie looked to Jake, who shrugged.

They followed her across the lawn. Reggie sidestepped charred concrete and holes in the ground.

“What happened there?” he asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

“Casey’s final battle,” she answered, “against Marcus, who we didn’t know was Marcus at the time, and Sam.”

“Sam?”

“He didn’t really do anything,” Jake said. “Besides get kidnapped, though _he_ says that’s not what happened.”

“We’ll pass the battleground of Casey and Colby, too.” Hailey looked back at them with heavy eyes. “It’s far worse.”

It was. An entire acre of trees lay flattened. They surrounded an enormous crater buried several feet into the earth. It looked like a bomb blew up.

“Who did that?” Reggie asked tentatively.

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “You’d have to ask Colby.”

They continued through the forest. There was a large hole in the ground, wide enough for a coffin. Hailey explained that they found the other three witches who were involved in the ritual down there. She wasn’t sure what happened there, either. The witches don’t remember anything except for a werewolf attack.

“Do you know anything that happened?” Jake asked.

She shook her head. “Colby didn’t want to talk about any of it.”

 _I don’t blame him,_ Reggie thought. This was terrifying. The first place with the charred asphalt was terrifying. He began to figure out that _magic_ was terrifying.

“Here,” she said. She stopped in the middle of a _nature made_ clearing. Reggie sighed. “This is our sacred land. Dozens of our people’s ashes have been buried here over the years. This is where our cycle ends and begins again.”

A twig snapped behind them. They spun around quickly. Hailey hugged the urn to her chest.

“Sorry,” the stranger said. He stepped into the open and smiled sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

This man wasn’t very tall, about average. Everything about him was average, actually. Black curly hair. Fair skin. He had a gap in between his front teeth. His eyes were weird, though. One blue, and the other brown. Reggie hummed. He’d never seen that in person.

Then Jake grabbed his arm, hard. His fingers curled into Reggie’s bicep, and he pulled him back a few steps. Reggie looked over his surprise, then his breath caught. Jake’s eyes were wide. Hailey’s were narrowed. Their jaws set, like they were ready for something. A fight, maybe.

“Who—” Reggie began.

 _“Marcus,”_ Hailey hissed. “What’re you doing here?”

Now Reggie’s jaw dropped. He stumbled back another step, and he dragged Jake with him. Marcus? As in, _Marcus_ Marcus?

“My best friend is dead,” Marcus said. “I’m allowed to mourn him.”

“But not here. You’re not allowed here.”

“This is sacred ground.”

“Exactly!”

Marcus huffed. “You can’t turn down one of your own on sacred ground. Especially not during a Summerland ritual.” His eyes drifted. “Besides, you’re letting them stay. They’re not even witches.” He stepped forward and eyed Jake. “Not powerful, anyways.”

Reggie stepped in front of Jake. He didn’t know what exactly he’d do if Marcus came for them, but hell, he sure wouldn’t make it _easy._

Hailey continued to glare. Her arms tightened around the urn. They held each other’s gazes like they were communicating telepathically.

Then, she sighed. “Fine,” she said. “You can stay, but you have to leave right after.”

He nodded. “Fine.” He moved further into the clearing and looked around. “Are we waiting on more people?”

She shook her head. “No, I asked them not to come.”

“What? How are you going to perform a ritual?”

“We’re not.”

As she walked away, he seethed. His hands curled into fists, and he ground his teeth.

“You can’t not do a ritual,” he growled. “Not only will you dishonor Casey, you’ll dishonor our ancestors. Our gods and goddesses.”

Hailey stopped in the center of the clearing. She looked down at the urn and sighed. “I think they’ll understand.” She looked at him. “I hope he doesn’t reincarnate. Someone like him doesn’t deserve it. He was cruel, Marcus. He was a cruel, heartless man.” She opened the lid and tossed it on the ground. _“At least_ I’m spreading his ashes on sacred land. I could’ve let him be buried under a false religion.”

Hailey swallowed thickly. Her eyes fell to the earth. Softly, she spoke, “From the dawn of your birth to the sunset of your death, I honor you. From the missions you completed to the duties left undone, I honor you. From the seasons of your being—"

Marcus charged at her. He raised his hand and smacked her across the face. “Stop it!” he shouted. “You don’t honor him, stop saying that!” When she stumbled back in surprise, he followed like a storm cloud. He didn’t notice the urn slip from her hands. He didn’t notice the ashes pour onto the grass.

“Oh shit,” Jake muttered behind Reggie.

“You’re right!” Hailey screamed. “I do _not_ honor him. I have no respect for him! Or you! You’re both twisted and deranged!”

“You’re his wife! You’re supposed to love him in sickness and in death.”

“I didn’t choose to be his wife!” Her eyes were glossy with tears. “I didn’t choose to be his anything! _You_ are the reason any of this happened, Marcus. You took my choice away from me! You charmed me to fall in love with him! I was a kid in a new city on my own. I didn’t know what I wanted. I don’t think I even wanted to be a witch! Not completely! But I never got a chance to figure it out because you and Casey made that decision for me!”

“I was helping—”

“Him! You were helping him! But what about _me?”_ she sobbed. “You didn’t even care about me or my life that you’d be screwing up. You gave him all that help, and for what? Nothing. You didn’t even treat him like a best friend. You treated him like a _slave.”_

“That’s _not_ true,” he growled.

“For years, you sent him on errands. Did you really think I didn’t know? He missed you dearly after you were exiled, so when you finally got in touch again, he was ready to do anything for you. He worshipped you, and you took advantage of that.”

His face was turning red. “That’s not true!”

“You jeopardized his position as High Priest, which he’s wanted since he joined the church, Marcus! You and I both knew that, and you still made him risk it all! You made him fear for his own life so horribly that he took a resurrection potion _every day._ He was always messed up Marcus, but you really fucked him over.”

“He was willing to do it! All of it! He wanted to see what the supernatural world had to offer.”

“I remember when _you_ learned about it. I remember when you got the Sight for the first time. You thought you were alone, but I loved the upstairs of the library too. I remember when you saw a vampire feed for the first time. You talked about it to yourself for hours, and I thought you’d finally gone insane. You wanted to gouge your eyes out, do you remember that? Those were _your words,_ Marcus.” She shoved her finger at his chest. Her cheeks were wet with tears. “So why, why would you want anybody else to go through that?! Why are you so hung up on putting people through pain and suffering that they don’t deserve?!”

“Because I—”

“Because you’re a _monster,”_ she spat. “You only care about yourself and making sure everybody stays beneath you! You think you’re superior to us, but in reality you’re not anywhere close. You’re on your own, completely. Casey wasn’t your best friend. Tyler isn’t either. They aren’t your friends, they’re your employees. Nobody wants to get close enough to your stone cold heart to even _try_ understanding you.”

Marcus knocked Hailey off her feet and pinned her to the ground by a hand around her throat. She gasped and choked beneath him. He tightened his grip with a sadistic grin.

“Since we’re throwing around insults,” he hissed, “why don’t we talk about you _killing_ your husband, hm? I spent the last few days wondering who could be strong enough to take him down. There aren’t many people, you know. He doesn’t have a lot of weaknesses, either. Really only one, and then it hit me.” He lifted her head a few inches and slammed it back into the ground. “You’re his only weakness, and you used that against him. Clever, Hailey. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Reggie ran without thinking. In the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t have a shot. Magic was real, and Marcus was real, and he just didn’t stand a chance. Still, he ran at him. He aimed to kick his teeth in, at least one or two. He’d never done it before, but it sounded pretty cool.

He didn’t even get close. Marcus glared at Reggie and waved his hand. An invisible force flung him to the side. It knocked his breath out of him. He pressed a hand to his stomach and coughed and choked.

“I told you I’d find out who did this to him. I told you I’d make them regret it.” He slammed her head into the ground again. “I keep my word, Hailey.”

Marcus raised his hand above his head. He closed his eyes and began muttering. Reggie couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it didn’t sound like actual English words. 

The sky began to shift above them. Gray and black bled into bright blue and yellow. Dark, angry storm clouds rolled over fluffy white ones. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A harsh, cold wind cut through the clearing like knives. Lightning bolted through the clouds. It lit up the darkened sky.

Reggie couldn’t believe his eyes. In just minutes, he’d turned a perfect LA sunny day into rainy despair.

Marcus laughed when he looked at Hailey again. “Shocked?” he teased. “Just wait for it.”

In his fuzzy vision, Reggie could see Jake sneaking up behind Marcus. If he had a voice, he’d yell. He’d tell Jake to get away, maybe find some help. There _was_ a whole building of witches at the bottom of the hill, for fuck’s sake.

But he couldn’t manage the words. Reggie pushed himself on his elbows and army crawled across the grass. Marcus sneered at him and raised his hand for another attack.

Then, Jake shouted from behind. “Dark and night, show the way, give me light, bright as day!” He swerved around Marcus and thrust his hands at his face. As the last word rolled off his tongue, a fireball ignited in his hands and exploded in Marcus’ face.

They were both knocked back a few feet. Marcus howled and withered in pain and pressed his hands to his smoking face. Reggie hoped his eyebrows were at least singed off. 

Jake rolled to a stop near Reggie. He stared at his hands with wide eyes, then turned to his brother.

“I fucking did it!” he cheered. “I did it! I did magic! Reggie, bro, _I did it!”_

Hailey pushed herself to her knees. She pressed a hand to her neck, like that would open her airways. Her face was red and puffy. She coughed violently.

Jake sat up. “Hailey!” he yelled. He pointed over her shoulder frantically.

Hailey grit her teeth. Her fingernails dug into the dirt. She ducked her head and screamed with every ounce of pain and anger she could muster. It made the earth shudder. It chilled Reggie and Jake to the bone. It startled a flock of birds out of a tree.

A giant, hand shaped rock rose out of the ground behind Hailey. It was enormous, the size of Jake, Hailey, and Reggie combined. It stretched into the sky and created a barrier between her and Marcus. Then, it dipped at the wrist. Its fingers wrapped around Marcus and trapped him in a fist that slammed him to the ground in an earthquake. The trees shook. Hailey fell over.

The world settled after that. The storm clouds evaporated, like they were never there. Warm sunlight poured on the clearing. Birds began chirping again—Reggie hadn’t realized they stopped in the first place. A soft breeze blew past them.

Reggie pushed himself up. His vision blurred a bit, but he was fine. He pulled Jake to his feet and looked him over.

“You good?” he asked.

Jake beamed. “I’m _great,_ dude.”

They helped Hailey up. She leaned on Reggie, and he held her by the waist. She stumbled when she walked. Jake slung an arm around her shoulders.

Marcus glared up at them. Half of his face glowed red with irritation. His skin was gone in most places while others it hung on by a thread. His right eyebrow was completely gone.

“This isn’t over,” he hissed.

"Maybe not,” Hailey mumbled. She pressed her hand to her forehead and winced. “Don’t you ever think about coming back here again. Not to this forest, not to the church. You’re not welcomed here, Marcus Pierce.”

He scoffed. “Whatever. I don’t need you or this place. You’re all dead to me.”

As they rounded the church, they were met with Ruth and other professors. They saw them emerge from the forest and rushed outside to help. Jake, Reggie, and Hailey followed the witches inside where they’d be checked for injuries and healed.

Reggie and Jake weren’t keen on letting Hailey go at first, but they were talked into it eventually. Reggie even let them heal him, though he didn’t need a lot of help. He had a mild concussion that was fixed easily with a simple, two-worded spell.

Twenty minutes after arriving, a few witches returned from the forest. Four or five ran back up the hill when they heard about Marcus. They planned on retrieving and arresting him, but it was too late. Marcus had escaped by the time they reached the sacred land. He was nowhere on the property.

Half an hour later, they were good to leave. They met in the hallway outside of the infirmary and shared uneasy smiles. They were tired, probably traumatized, but mostly relieved to finally leave that place.

She reassured she was fine when they reached their floor. She ignored the worried looks they threw her as she turned to her apartment. Multiple times, she told them she was fine. They had to believe her eventually.

Reggie didn’t go back to his place. He followed Jake into his apartment and sat on the couch.

“You staying here?” Jake asked.

“Yeah. I don’t want to go home yet.”

Jake nodded. “Okay… cool.”

“So, is this how things usually go for you guys?”

“What do you mean?”

Reggie sighed as he settled into the couch. “Crazy magic fights that almost kill us?”

“Oh. Nah, only recently.” Jake sat next to him. “Used to, we’d go to haunted places for videos, Sam talked to an angry ghost or something, and we went home.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. We went to the Witches Forest, I guess. Or maybe Marcus met Sam. Colby fought a werewolf; feel like that changed things.”

Reggie huffed. A werewolf. He needed to see it to believe it.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Fine,” Jake said. His eyebrows furrowed. “How do _you_ feel?”

“I mean with the drug and everything. How do you feel?”

“Reggie bro, I told you. I’m okay! Perfectly fine. I’m just,” he rubbed his face. “I’m tired.”

“You don’t _look_ okay.”

“You aren’t looking too hot yourself. Fugly.”

“Jake.” 

“Reggie.” Jake rolled his eyes. _“Dude,_ I’d tell you if something was wrong.”

His head fell to the back of the couch. Everything about Jake looked _wrong._ The only thing missing was a confirmation.

“Okay,” he said, despite himself. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Reggie shook his head. “I guess I’ll _trust_ you to tell me.” He made a face. “That’ll never happen.”

Jake smacked his shoulder. He jumped to his feet and headed for his room.

“Night!” he called.

Reggie stared at the ceiling. He thought about everything from the last few days. No denying it was real now. No backing out.

He was really in it now, huh?

“Hey. At least bring me a blanket!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was really really excited to write jake's fight. originally he was gonna just punch marcus in the face, but this little burst of magic goes with a topic later, so it works. he's officially in the game, my friends!


	6. can't we just talk?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solby fluff; Jake buys more drugs; Marcus finally finds a successful veil hopping partner.

When Colby woke from another nightmare—eyes snapping open just as his world disappeared from him again, body jolting, a shudder running down his spine—Sam was already blinking away the sleep like he’d already been up thirty seconds longer. Colby figured he woke him, but maybe Sam had as much trouble sleeping as he did these days. He remembered a time when their nights were disturbed _only_ by Sam’s morbid nightmares. That felt like years ago now. 

He rolled over to face Sam. “Did I wake you?” he whispered. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, so he reached blindly to cup Sam’s face. His fingers curled under his chin, thumb touched the corner of his mouth. If he could see, he’d be kissing him right now.

His thumb followed Sam’s soft smile. “Yeah. It’s okay, though.”

“You’re not a light sleeper.” That wasn’t a question, but he meant for it to be. His brain was still frazzled from the nightmare, but he knew he didn’t react that much. He didn’t sit up in a cold sweat like he had before. He didn’t yell or thrash about or anything that would’ve normally woken Sam. He barely moved, he thought. 

Thankfully, Sam understood. He was the best at understanding him.

“Have been for a few months… ever since I got the Sight, really. I’m just more aware.”

Windows surrounded them on all three walls. They pulled the curtains shut before bed, but slivers of light from the lamp post they parked under still managed to peek beneath the cloth. Thanks to that, he could see. There was just enough light for his eyes to finally recognize the person in front of him.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he admitted quietly.

Sam’s fingers curled around Colby’s. He pressed a lip to his knuckles.

“I have an idea,” he said with a grin. He released Colby’s hand and sat up.

Colby watched him crawl toward the door. “Hey,” he whined.

“I’m not leav—I’m just grabbing my bag.” He paused. “And my phone, ‘cause I can’t freakin see.”

Colby chuckled. He grabbed his own from the window and switched on his flashlight. He propped himself on his elbow while raising his phone toward Sam.

“Thanks.” Sam reached for his bag at the end of the bed.

“Hey, is there a light switch down there?”

Sam hummed. There was a click, and the overhead light flipped on. Soft gold shone on them, the nice glow that didn’t hurt their eyes. Sam found what he was looking for and crawled up the mattress with something clenched in his hand.

Colby turned his phone off and tossed it across the mattress. “What’s that?” he asked. He sat against the wall.

Sam joined him without an answer. He reached for a pillow to place on his lap, then he curled his leg around Colby’s to press closer, as much as possible. Colby leaned into him and kissed his hair.

One of his hands was placed on the pillow while Sam’s fist opened around a bottle of black nail polish. Colby snorted.

“Nail polish?” he said. “Really?”

“Mmhm.” Sam unscrewed the cap.

Colby struggled to keep the grin off his face. He sat back and let it happen—as if he’d ever turn this down—knowing his nails were about to look like absolute shit. Sam didn’t have as much experience as he did with painting nails. Colby was no pro, but at least he managed to keep the strokes on his skin to a minimum. Sam finished his first thumb with almost as much black around the tip of his finger as the nail itself. It’s okay. The extra would come off after a few hand washes. Still, funny as hell to watch.

“I feel like you do this on purpose,” he teased. “I mean this isn’t hard, Sam. The fuck are you trying to do, paint my whole finger?”

Sam snickered. “I don’t know. Maybe.” To prove his point, he dragged the brush from Colby’s knuckle down to his nail.

“Oh wow, you got me.” Colby rolled his eyes. He waited until Sam dipped the brush into the bottle to press his finger to his cheek. Sam’s mouth parted in surprise, and his eyebrows rose. Colby gently curved the paint into a C with his thumb, just beneath Sam’s eye. The paint spread thin near the bottom of the letter, so most of it was missing, but the idea was there.

He sat back with a smirk. “I believe I just left my mark.” He licked his lips. “Guess that means you’re my territory now.”

Sam pressed his lips into a smile. His cheeks were beginning to flush. His eyes fell to the bottle of paint he was screwing closed.

“Here I was trying to be cute, painting your nails and shit to calm you down.” He turned to place the polish in the window. 

Colby chuckled. “I appreciate it. Really.” He leaned forward and pecked his lips. “And we’ll have to continue later ‘cause my hand looks horrible.”

Sam breathed a laugh that was cut short with another kiss.

“But now,” Colby whispered. He grabbed a fistful of Sam’s shirt and tugged him closer. “Now I have a better idea.”

Their lips connected again, and they didn’t separate. Sam pushed forward with his arms around Colby’s neck, fingers in his hair. Colby pushed back, he always pushed back. He always won. With an arm around Sam’s waist, he gently lowered him to the mattress. He loved it. He loved pinning Sam to the bed and kissing him until his lips swelled.

Sam’s hand slipped down Colby’s bare chest and rested at the waistband of his shorts.

"Feeling bold, eh?" Colby teased. Then he snickered. “Can’t risk that. You’d totally give us away.”

Sam tipped his chin back. His eyes narrowed with a challenge. “Would not.”

Oh, if only they were home. Colby would take that challenge and enjoy every minute of it.

Instead he dipped his head to end their fun with soft kisses. Sam’s lips, the corner of his mouth, his forehead, his jaw, his ear. 

“You’re the one who had the nightmare,” Sam said, almost whined like a child (and it was really cute). “I should be showering _you_ with kisses.”

Colby smiled. “But you deserve it for being the best boyfriend.” He laid next to Sam and grabbed his hand. “Besides, I feel better.”

What he didn’t admit was that he didn’t want to be coddled. Maybe at first when things were still so fresh and scary, but not after having the _exact same dream_ every night for a week. Don’t get him wrong, what happened that night still terrified him. It still made his throat close up just thinking about it. It still made him claustrophobic, which he never was before. The effects were still there, and he hated it. He hated how they made him feel: powerless, anxious, completely out of control.

So, he was tired of being pampered when he jolted himself out of a nightmare. Hell, he was tired of the nightmare. The repetition made him angry. 

And Sam meant well, of course he did. He only wanted to make sure Colby was okay and safe, and he will never, ever turn that down. But he was really getting sick of this nightmare controlling him.

“Sam,” he said.

“Hm?” Sam lay against his side, head beneath Colby’s chin, tip of his finger gently tracing the heart tattoo.

“Do you still get nightmares?”

A pause. Then, “Yeah, I guess. Normal people would call them nightmares.”

“Hey.” Colby squeezed his hand. Not in a comforting way. “Quit saying that.” _Normal people._ Sam had developed a bad habit since he got the Sight for isolating himself from the “regular” people in the world. He always made two groups: himself and everybody else. On top of that, he used to claim his insanity was crumbling. Thankfully, Colby talked him out of that one.

“I’m not saying that to put myself down. I question myself sometimes, but I don’t….” He shook his head. “I’ve accepted who I am now. It’s okay.” He squeezed back. “I think I’m desensitized to most things now. My nightmares aren’t really nightmares anymore. They’re just sick dreams. They don’t scare me.”

“How did you… reach that point?”

“I don’t know, I guess I faced my fears. You remember when we filmed at the Horton Hotel a few months ago? Way back before any of this started?”

Colby smiled halfheartedly. “That feels like it was five years ago.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Things were so much easier back then. I mean, in general. I was still pretty scared of my Sight then. I had this strategy: ignore everything. If I ignore them, if I don’t interact or show that I can see them, they won’t bother me. Obviously, it didn’t work. It’s _really_ hard to ignore someone who’s constantly trying to get your attention.

“Then I talked to Taylor that night. He showed me a different perspective of the Sight. He showed me that, instead of being afraid, I can _learn_ from them. Most spirits have a lot to say. So, I started talking back. They just want to be heard, usually. They’re basically harmless.

“Demons are a different story, and they _do_ give me nightmares. They’re a bit harder to deal with. I haven’t really figured out how to do it yet, if I’m being honest.”

“You did okay in Hailey’s apartment.”

“That’s because I knew his name,” Sam said. “Knowing a name gives you power over them. It’s like a trap. Besides, he was literally caged in,” he chuckled, “so I knew he couldn’t hurt any of us. And, you know, I wasn’t _actually_ feeling that confident. Fake it til you make it and shit.” He laughed like there was a joke somewhere. 

“We exorcised him,” Colby whispered. He ran his nails up and down Sam’s arm. “Sent his ass back to Hell.”

“I know. I figured. … I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“I don’t know how much you would’ve helped, honestly. He couldn’t touch any of us because we never broke the seal. It wasn’t easy, but that’s because we’d never exorcised a demon before.”

Sam hummed. “Guess you didn’t need me, which is fine. Corey would have absolutely shit himself if we came over in the middle of that.”

Colby snickered. “Oh, for sure.”

A knock down the hall made them freeze. Sam stirred in his arms, trying to sit up and go investigate, but Colby held him tight. It was probably nothing. Or maybe it was something. Either way, he so didn’t want to get involved. 

“That was a knock,” Sam said. “Like… a _knock.”_

“Yeah. You said this place is haunted.”

“Yeah, but….” His eyebrows furrowed. There were gears turning in his head. He made a move to get up again, and Colby let him. Reluctantly.

“Do you think there’s anything dangerous out there?” Colby asked. He rolled onto his stomach and propped up on his elbows. He watched Sam inch toward the door.

“No.”

“Then come back to bed.”

Sam didn’t move. He eyed the door while the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Colby reached for him. “Come on. It’s okay, nothing’s gonna get us in here.”

It was like trying to coax a puppy from another dog’s backyard.

While Colby crawled back under the covers, Sam turned his back on the door. Slowly, with his head constantly looking over his shoulder, like he expected something to pop out. 

“Do you want the lights out?” Colby asked. He didn’t receive a response; Sam just turned them out. 

The mattress dipped with his weight as he crawled to the top of the bed. Colby waited until he’d laid down to pull the covers over them. They settled into each other, Sam’s back against Colby’s chest, legs tangled, fingers intertwined. 

Another knock caused Sam to tense immediately. He pressed closer to Colby, as if it were possible. The arm around his body hugged tighter.

“You’re safe,” Colby whispered. “You’re safe. Relax, love. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

He was like this everywhere except their apartment: tense, wary, vigilant. Even worse when he had to _sleep_ in an unfamiliar place. Colby never mentioned it. It couldn’t be fixed or watered down. Sam was just this person now. He hid it well, managed to push his feelings back most of the time, but emotions slipped through from time to time. Especially when it was time for bed, and his eyes swept over the room a few times before he finally turned the lights out. Colby had to coax him out of his thoughts a handful of times.

Between Sam’s paranoia and Colby’s nightmares, it was no wonder they worked so well together.

“We’re both safe,” he added.

“Yeah,” Sam said.

What a pair.

••••••••••

The thrill of successfully emerging from the veil in one piece—brain still intact, heart pumping like it should, oxygen regularly flowing through his body once more—beat the electric shock that jolted him back to the land of the living this time. Usually, it was the other way around. That buzz in his bones had an addictive aftertaste on his tongue that just made his mouth water. 

But this time was different than the last. _This time:_ his partner came back too!

Seconds after Marcus, Taylor Gambit sat upright with a gasp on the other table. He and Tyler watched the life flood back into his eyes. It was magnificent: the fog clouding his irises drained into tears that spilled over his cheeks. He gasped again like the air was too dense to breathe—which wasn’t at all the case. That was just an immediate side effect from coming back.

“Oh my god,” Marcus breathed. “It worked.”

Tyler sighed heavily. “We should’ve snagged a seer in the first place.”

“Would’ve saved us a lot of time.”

“And less bodies to deal with, sheesh.”

Tyler turned to tug a curtain over a large square mirror that stood tall between Marcus and Taylor’s beds. Then he crossed the room to a white box in the corner. It sounded like a vacuum, tried sucking things up like a vacuum… one _might_ assume it was a vacuum. But nothing fell into the dirt container.

At least, nothing to the naked eye.

“That was it, right?” Taylor said. “I helped you with the stupid—whatever this was, and now we’re done.” His red eyes darted around the room. When he first came back, they were surrounded by souls they managed to lure back through the portal. Now every time he blinked, more and more disappeared. The vacuum caught his attention, shimmering in the corner like the sun. He wondered, briefly, if it would explode.

Marcus hummed. “Not quite. We’re done for now, sure, but we can’t just part ways! Not after this—look what we accomplished together!” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and jumped up with a grin. “This was the largest haul of souls we’ve ever gotten, and it’s all because of you and your stable mind!”

“And demonic Sight,” Tyler added with a snicker.

Taylor shook his head. “I’m _not_ doing that again. That was… That was insane! _Literally_ mind-bending!”

“I know. Why do you think I’ve gone through so many partners?” Marcus’ eyes shone. “We’re the only ones who have been able to withstand the veil—you and I, isn’t that exciting?!”

“No, not really! What was with that constant pull when we tried getting back?! Was that just me?!”

“No. I’ve been wondering that too.” Marcus scratched his chin. “Maybe the veil knows we’ve not died yet. Maybe it’s trying to keep us from returning to our bodies. Ghosts do that sometimes, don’t they? They try persuading people to kill themselves to cross over.”

Taylor shook his head slowly, eyes wide. “You’re out of your mind.” He rolled off the bed and stormed toward the door. “Count me out of your next hop. I’m never going in there again.”

“That’s fine,” Marcus called. “Maybe one of your kids would be willing to help? You know, children are highly sensitive to this sort of thing.”  
Taylor stopped in his tracks, proving yet again that he was different from the others. He had strings attached. He had things to lose.

“You promised you wouldn’t go after them,” he recalled dryly. He turned around slowly.

“I promised we wouldn’t go after them _if_ you agree to work with me.”

“Which I did.”

Marcus poked his tongue into his cheek. “Tyler, why don’t you escort him out? He’s done for the day.” He smiled. “See you next week.”

Taylor grit his teeth. He swallowed back his curse words and reluctantly backed out of the room—only when Tyler pulled back his lips to reveal two razor sharp fangs protruding over his regular teeth.

Marcus turned with his phone in his hand. He scrolled through his recent calls and hit Casey’s name. He bounced on his feet while the dial tone rang in his ear. Casey would be pleased to hear about this, surely. They’d been trying to figure out veil hopping for far too long. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he waited patiently, eagerly, to spill the news to his best friend.

But then— 

“Marcus.”

_—it’s not him._

His grin fell away.

“How many times are you going to keep calling?” she asked softly. Like their last encounter didn’t happen. Like she didn’t _attack_ him and leave him _trapped_ and _alone._

“He’s gone, Marcus. And he’s not coming back this time.”

“Because you killed him,” Marcus hissed. “Murderer.”

She sighed. “Stop calling this number.”

_Click_

He stood, unbreathing, for half a second. Then his body moved without him processing it, fingers typing in a number that he knew by heart. He added star-67 to the beginning. As it rang more than once, his smile slowly reappeared. Worked every time.

“Hello?”

Marcus leaned on the table. He crossed his ankles as his face lit up. “Hey, Sam.”

Silence. Then, “What do you want?”

“To talk. Can’t we just talk?”

“No.”

 _“Who is it?”_ someone whispered nearby. Colby, of course it was Colby. Marcus tsked.

_Click_

He called again. No answer. 

Again, again, again, again.

No answer.

No answer.

No answer.

_No answer._

Marcus yelled. He threw his phone against the wall. He didn’t flinch when shards of glass bounced back at him.

All he wanted to do was tell somebody about his accomplishments. Was that too much to ask for? Was that too difficult to ask of a _friend?_ A… Maybe… A _partner?_

He called again.

••••••••••

There was a flaw in the drug dealing business. Jake only knew of one place to get it: the parking lot. If Tyler decided to show up that day. Or ever again. 

So, _how_ was Jake supposed to get a refill when he needed it?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he rode the elevator down to his car. This was becoming routine: spend most of his day waiting in the parking lot for Tyler, who wouldn’t show up, and then wither in disappointment and pain as his body fought between healing itself and yearning for more.

Yesterday, he told Reggie everything was okay. He swore there was nothing wrong, that he had everything under control. And he believed it.

Mostly.

Until two hours of sitting in his car passed. Then, _maybe,_ he started to consider how unhealthy this whole thing was.

He’d never been into the drug life. Alcohol? Hell yeah. Weed? Sure, worth a shot. Adderall? Xanax? Molly? Not too appealing. That was one thing his mom didn’t worry about when he wanted to move to LA, and he proudly upheld that expectation. So did Reggie. They got into trouble, sure, but drugs? That was a line neither ever wanted to cross.

So, what the actual hell was he doing? What would his mother say if she found out about this? The drug part; that would be easiest to explain.

His passenger door popped open, and he jumped. For a split second, his heart jumped at the idea of Tyler finally showing up. It’s about time; he was beginning to go insane.

No, it wasn’t his drug dealer who climbed into his car. Instead: Reggie. And he didn’t look happy.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh… nothing. Nothing, just chilling. What are _you_ doing?”

“Yesterday, you told me you were okay.”

“Which I am.”

“You said nothing was wrong.”

“Nothing _is_ wrong.”

“Bullshit!” Reggie snapped. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You look like a fucking zombie.”

Jake was quiet. He swallowed thickly and picked at his nail polish. When had it come to this? Lying to his brother about _drugs?_ _Seriously?_ They didn’t keep secrets from each other. Maybe when they were younger, and maybe over little things, but not anymore. Especially not since Reggie moved to LA. There weren’t many times Jake needed someone to talk to, but when he _did,_ Reggie was there. Reggie was always there.

“I just feel like I have to catch up to them,” he admitted.

“What?”

“Before you came along, I was the normal one in the group. Colby has magic. Sam has the Sight. Corey has… a scientific version of the Sight.”

Reggie chuckled. “What?”

“You know what I mean! They just… all have a reason to be in this-this whole,” he waved his hands, “supernatural ordeal. And I don’t. Sometimes I just feel like the tag along. Pretty sure I wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t caught Colby talking to Casey in the hallway.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Colby tried to lie when I first asked him about Casey. If I would’ve just let it go, he wouldn’t have said anything. They weren’t going to tell Corey, either. They would’ve kept everything between them.”

“See? It’s not just you. They didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, but now Corey knows, and he’s a medium, so he and Sam have a lot to talk about. Colby has Hailey; they’re a badass duo. So I was thinking: how do I contribute to this? Well. I could test out this drug everyone’s been asking about.”

Reggie’s shoulders slumped. His mouth parted, and his eyes widened.

“Jake, dude….”

“But it’s so cool, man! Like, I saw a mermaid last week. A mermaid! Just in a parking lot, going to get some food, like a regular person. And vampires exist. They’re the ones with the black veins. Actually, I think their veins change color. Maybe they change with the amount of blood they’ve drank. And werewolves… come on bro, tell me you wouldn’t try this too.”

“Sure, maybe. But don’t you see what it’s doing to you? You’re sensitive to light. You’re angry over the littlest of things. When you’re not angry, you’re tired and sleep all the time, which is weird because your eyes look like you haven’t slept in a week. Do you really think it’s worth it to tear yourself down like this?”

“Maybe I’m _depressed,”_ he joked. Halfheartedly. When Reggie didn’t laugh, he tried again, “Those are all normal reactions to the Sight, though!”

“Really? Did you talk to Sam about it?”

“Well, no… He’s told us bits and pieces, but he hasn’t said much about what things were like in the beginning.”

“Maybe you should talk to him before you start rationalizing things.”

“What about heightened senses?” Jake added. “Tyler said the Sight gives you heightened senses.”

Reggie frowned. “Heightened senses? Wait, Tyler? Who’s that?”

“… Marcus’ roommate.”

“Didn’t he, like, attack someone?”

“Yeah….”

Reggie pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, Jake.”

Speak of the devil, a sleek SUV backed into a parking space across from them. Reggie didn’t pay any attention, but Jake straightened in his seat.

“There he is,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Tyler; that’s his car!” Jake threw his seatbelt off and reached for his door handle.

“Wait—!” Reggie cried. He grabbed Jake’s wrist. “What’re you doing?! We need to leave. That guy almost killed someone.”

“I’ve met with him a few times; he’s okay.”

Reggie shook his head. “Listen to me: You don’t have to do this.” He squeezed his wrist. “You’ve already done enough to help, okay? You’ve given Hailey plenty of information about the drug. Let her take it from here.”

“It’s not just about that, though! The world is bigger! There are more dangerous things out there, and we can’t see any of it without that drug!” Jake shook his head, helpless. “Let me do this. I’ve done it before; I can do it again.”

Reggie stared at his brother for a long time, eyes cold, jaw set. His grip on Jake held strong.

Then, he let go.

“Fine,” he said quietly. He settled into his seat and glared at the dashboard. “Don’t think I’m going to sit by and watch you destroy yourself, though.”

Jake nodded for lack of better words. He turned to the SUV, still sitting across from them. With a deep breath, he popped his door open.

Tyler met him in the middle. He eyed Reggie over Jake’s shoulder and smirked when the stranger didn’t meet his gaze.

“Was I interrupting?” he teased.

Jake shuffled to the side until he blocked Tyler’s view. “Can we just do this already?”

“Yeah, whatever. This is gonna be our last deal, understand? If you want more, you have to get it yourself.”

“What? Where the hell am I supposed to—”

Tyler waved an unmarked envelope in his face. “Everything you need to know is in here. Fifty for one.”

Jake blinked. “What happened to twenty?”

“Supply and demand, dude.” Tyler shrugged.

As he handed over the money, Tyler held out the envelope. He took it without hesitation, though he wondered nervously what was inside. 

Tyler smirked. “Pleasure doing business.”

Jake backed to his car. He watched Tyler climb inside the SUV and pull out of the parking spot.

“What’d he give you?” Reggie asked when Jake sat next to him.

Jake tore open the envelope. He dumped the contents into his lap. The pill was in a small plastic bag under a piece of notebook paper. Reggie reached for the paper while Jake hungrily tossed the pill into his mouth.

“It’s an address,” Reggie announced. “Says: Secret password, but you should know it. What does that mean?”

“Secret password,” Jake mumbled. His eyes narrowed. “I dunno. I mean, the only secret anything I know about was a place at the Stan—”

His jaw dropped.

Reggie sat up. “What?”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“What?!” Reggie smacked his arm. “Say something!”

He didn’t. Instead, Jake grabbed his phone and sent a text to their group chat. Reggie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

**Jake: GUESS WHO FOUND THE WITCH BLACK MARKET**

••••••••••

Elton’s timing was terrible. Right when Jake’s text came through, the RV stopped at their campsite, and he began confiscating phones. They were spending their last day together in the wilderness, which was great and everything, but the fucking _magical black market._ AKA Marcus’ business grounds. AKA the heart of his whole evil operation. Jake found it. _How_ did Jake find it?!

They couldn’t ask, and by the looks they shared as Elton placed their phones onto the loft bed, it was killing them. Sam was the last to give his phone up. As soon as he reached his arm up to the bed, his ringtone cut through the RV. He turned quickly, so nobody could see the screen.

“Uhh, I have to take this,” he said. He looked at Elton innocently. “It’s my brother.”

Elton raised an eyebrow. “Okay… just meet us outside then.”

Sam nodded. He watched them leave one by one: Elton, Andrea, Corey… moved slower than the rest and held up the line until it was just the three of them inside.

“Who’s actually calling?” Colby asked.

“Marcus, but I’m not answering. I’ll figure out what happened with Jake and fill you guys in later.”

Corey nodded. “Sounds good.” He stepped off the RV and shut the door behind him.

Colby turned to Sam. “I’ll wait with you.”

“No, it’s okay.” He declined the call and opened his messages. “Go, before they start making assumptions.” He looked at Colby with a smirk.

“Let ‘em.” Colby shrugged. He leaned against the booth.

Sam nodded. “Okay….” He glanced at Colby before returning to his texts.

Marcus called three more times while Sam conversed with Jake and Hailey. He ignored every time, like he said he would, though a part of him wanted to answer. Just to talk some sense into him, perhaps. Or maybe hearing him out would make him stop calling. Something to break the thirty-seven call streak.

“Evergreen Cemetery,” Colby said. “Should’ve known it’d be somewhere creepy.”

“It has a plot number and everything. Ugh, that’s so weird.”

“Well, guess I know what I’m doing when we get back. I’ll go with Jake and check it out; we’re the only ones who have been in one before.”

“I wanna go,” Sam whined.

The corner of Colby’s mouth twitched. “Yeah no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sam’s phone rang again.

“For that reason alone.”

Sam pouted. “But I wanna see a witch black market!” 

“I’ll take you to another one. In a different city. _Away_ from Marcus Pierce.”

“Fine.” Sam powered down his phone and laid it on the bed. “Let’s go.”

Colby smiled. His fingers curled around Sam’s hips and pulled him forward. Just as they were about to kiss—

“Hey!” The front door fell open, and Elton ran inside with the camera. “Lovebirds! Come on, we have a campsite to build!”

Sam shook his head with disbelief as he laughed. “Okay, _okay!”_ He pecked Colby’s cheek, then turned to the door. He pulled Colby to his feet.

Their friends laughed and teased as they exited the RV. Elton followed, cracking jokes every step of the way.

Behind them, the door shut. Elton locked it.

And in the silence of the RV, Colby’s phone rang.


	7. hot cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Occult gang meets up for a recap; Jake makes a difficult decision; Valentina invites guests into her coven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you guys seen that tiktok with the old woman who wants to be reincarnated as a a witch so she can "put a spell on you" with claw-fingers & her daughter goes "stop, i don't like that. come back as an angel!" and the old woman is like "… no! 😡" ? i love that video a lot

“Do you think Hailey would film a video with us?” Colby asked as he turned away from his computer. He pushed to the railing and peeked over the balcony at Sam, who lay across the couch with his laptop.

“Uhhh….” Sam squinted at the screen, typed something, then looked up at Colby. “Maybe? Depends on the video?”

Colby hummed. He pulled himself back to the desk and grabbed his headphones. He was working on the Witches Forest series. They got back from the Utah trip late last night, and after catching up on their sleep, they jumped right back into work. There were emails to answer, phone calls to make, videos to edit. Busy, busy, busy.

The next time he stepped away from the computer, there were voices in his apartment. Sam and Hailey’s. He walked down to join them. They were at the bar, Hailey sitting in one of the barstools and Sam standing in front of her. She wore a pretty blue V neck sundress with small white polka dots and a pair of pure white tennis shoes. She had a matching blue scarf tied around her neck.

“Hey,” Sam said with a smile, “brownie?” He pushed a half empty pan of brownies to the edge of the table.

“You made us brownies?” Colby teased. “Hailey, I’m flattered.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I made _me_ brownies. These are leftover.”

“Still, thanks for sharing.” Sam shoved one in his mouth. “They’re good.”

Hailey smacked his arm. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Sam and Colby shared a smile as Sam turned to pour a glass of milk.

“So, how was your trip?” she asked. She sat on one of the barstools.

Colby sat next to her. “So much fun! Our friend rented an entire waterpark out, just for us.”

“Yeah, and he didn’t tell us that until after he made us think we were getting arrested again,” Sam added.

Hailey blinked. “You’ve been arrested??”

“Oh, yeah. We’re felons.”

Sam nodded at Colby as he returned to the bar. “He’s actually been to jail.”

Colby grinned. “I was in there for a whole day.”

“For _what?”_

“Trespassing.”

“And fake IDs,” Colby said. “For me.”

“Oh.” She grabbed another brownie. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What—?” Sam laughed.

Hailey waved her hand. “Anyways—”

“Rude,” Colby said.

“Would you like me to wait a day for you to relax after your trip, or would you like to know now what happened while you were gone?’

Colby shook his head. “We’re not relaxing, so just tell us.”

“First was Casey’s funeral. Jake and Reggie went with me.”

“Really?” Sam asked. “I didn’t think you guys were that close.”

“We weren’t. Jake actually invited himself out of good intentions. I’m glad they went because, well….” She shook her head and breathed a laugh. She missed the look Sam and Colby shared. “I’ll get there.”

“Are we about to hear bad news?” Colby asked cautiously.

“No. It’s not _bad_ news, it’s just…” She tapped her fingers against the table. “It’s not bad news.”

“Okay,” he laughed. Nervously. He looked at Sam again.

“Before the service began, we met the High Priestess of the San Diego Coven. Her name is Valentina Cruse. She was asking about you, Sam.”

Sam blinked. “Me? Why?”

“Have you spoken to Taylor Gambit recently?”

He frowned and reached into his pocket for his phone. “Yeah, actu—Well no, I haven’t _spoken_ to him. He tried to call me last week, though. Left a voicemail. I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet.” He tapped a few things on his phone, then he laid it on the counter and turned up the volume.

 _“Hey Sam,”_ Taylor said with a sigh, _“it’s Taylor. I just spoke to Marcus Pierce, believe it or not. He told me what actually happened with that attack a few weeks ago. He said you weren’t involved. I’m glad I know that now; you’re a pretty cool dude, and I don’t know a lot of seers. I’m happy you’re not evil like everyone thinks we are._

_“He told me some other stuff too, like what he’s planning. Why he’s suddenly after seers: he wants to veil hop to create this supernatural Sight that lets anyone see the occult world. There’s more out there than just ghosts and demons. I should know—the guy who attacked me was a vampire. I’m sure of it. I saw his fangs before I blacked out, and when I woke up, there were punctures in my neck that doctors couldn’t place.”_

Sam’s breath caught. Colby’s eyes widened.

 _“Look I don’t know if you know this, but veil hopping is dangerous and_ extremely _forbidden. He plans to enter through a vortex and collect souls. I don’t understand how he thinks that’s possible, though. The living can’t enter the veil. Apparently, only true seers can do it correctly. Does that mean he’s tried others and failed? Probably. This guy is crazy, Sam. I’m just calling to warn you. Tell your friends and a coven, if you know one. Everybody needs to be on guard. He’s threatening the balance of our world and the other. Stay safe, Sam.”_

“Oh my god there’s more to it,” Sam groaned. He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Fuuuck. And I thought him needing my blood was bad.” He shook his head. “Wait, wait. I thought he didn’t have the Sight anymore. How the fuck is he even doing all of this?”

“Well, he forced a demon to give him the Sight the first time.” Hailey huffed. “I imagine he could’ve done it again.”

“I just don’t get why he needs seers for this. He’s been collecting souls this whole time.”

Colby frowned. “How do you know?”

“I didn’t piece this together until just now, but… Sallos warned me about this _months_ ago. He said demons feed off of the souls trapped in the veil. I think they’re the ones who have trouble crossing over or something. He said if there aren’t any souls in the veil… then demons will start coming into our world to feed.”

“On humans,” Hailey realized. She sighed deeply. “Is it possible, though? For the veil to run out of souls?”

“Maybe not completely, but…” Sam shrugged. “It must be an issue if a demon was telling a _human.”_

“Or _maybe_ he just wanted out,” Colby suggested. When Sam looked at him, he added, “I’m just saying, if _I_ were trapped in a house for like twenty years, I’d say anything to get out. Also he’s, you know, a demon.”

“Okay, let’s say he was lying,” Sam said. “That doesn’t really leave any… danger for this drug, right? I mean, who cares if people can see stuff? It’ll be humans versus supernatural creatures. Who do you think will win that?”

“We don’t know who it’s being sold to, so it’s not people we have to worry about! It’s hunters.” Hailey sighed. She gestured to herself and Colby. “It’s _witch_ hunters.” She nodded at Sam. “Exorcists. People who know how to handle themselves against us. The more this drug spreads, the more danger we’re in. All of us.”

“I’m not possessed,” Sam scoffed. “What can an exorcist do?”

She raised an eyebrow and tipped her chin up to meet his eye. He stared back expectantly.

“Come with Colby next time he has a lesson, and I’ll show you,” she finally said. “You need to know what you’re up against eventually, but I think you’re safe right now. Even with how popular this drug is getting, nobody’s caught on to either of you, right?”

Sam and Colby shared a look, then they shook their heads.

“Good.” Her gaze fell to Sam’s arm. “Let me see your hand.” She pointed to his left. When offered, she grabbed his wrist and gently pulled him closer. “This is the only thing that really concerns me right now.”

“Why?” Colby asked.

“Well, it _could_ be just a regular tattoo to any human passing by or—to any supernatural or someone with the same knowledge of such—it could be a, well, mark of a demon.”

“So if, say, an exorcist sees this…” Sam trailed off.

She nodded. “He’ll think you’re possessed and try to… help.”

“Then I’ll say I’m not possessed.”

“Which will create _more_ questions until eventually, you out yourself as a seer. Then—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Sam looked at Colby. “But what can we do about it?”

“I can cloak it,” she offered. He immediately tried pulling his hand back. She tightened her grip. “I won’t hurt you, Sam. You’ll barely feel it.”

“Okay….” He trusted her, really. It’s just… magic.

Colby slid off the stool and walked around the bar. He leaned against the counter next to Sam and grabbed his other hand.

“Hey,” he said.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Hey.”

“You look beautiful today.” Colby cupped his cheek and kissed him softly.

His heart fluttered. He melted into his embrace.

“Done,” Hailey announced. “See? Harmless.”

Colby pulled away with a grin. He fist bumped Hailey behind his back.

“Wow,” Sam huffed. “I feel like a kid who got tricked into getting their flu shot.”

Hailey giggled. “Pretty accurate simile. Look.” She tilted his arm toward them. “Like it was never there.”

She’s right. His forearm was bare once more, smooth, pale, just as he remembered. He never thought he’d see it again. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch it. The pads of his fingers brushed over the skin which, to his surprise—or maybe not—was still rugged. The design of the sigil was still there. He could still make out every symbol and letter, but he couldn’t _see_ it.

“A cloaking spell only works visually,” she explained. “Unless someone’s close enough to touch you,” she watched Colby gently drag his fingers over Sam’s arm, “they won’t know it’s there.”

“That’s so cool,” Sam said.

“Is it permanent?” Colby asked. 

“As permanent as any other cloaking spell. Only the same magical intent can break it.”

Sam looked up at her. “Thank you, Hailey.”  
She smiled, genuinely. “No problem.”

••••••••••

Valentina smiled as she walked through the doorway of the observation deck. She had a tray of hot chocolate, five mugs filled with the most delicious, enchanted cocoa in all of California—in her opinion anyways.

“Hello!” she greeted. “Is anyone else in the mood for chocolate?” Two children, a six year old girl and a five year old boy, raced toward her. They yelled, cheered, jumped up and down, and politely begged for a cup. Carefully, Val knelt between the kids. “Be careful—it’s hot!”

They grabbed the mugs closest to the edge, a red and a green, with _extreme_ caution. She was proud of how well they handled it, and they’re not even her kids.

Their parents walked over then, Taylor and Jo Gambit. Jo was gorgeous: jet black hair paired with a fair complexion and thick eyebrows that she definitely pulled off. (Not many people can.) Despite the situation, she always smiled. Always played with her kids. Always kept an upbeat and positive attitude. Val kind of loved her.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Jo said as she reached for a mug, “but thank you. I was _just_ telling Taylor how hot chocolate would be perfect up here.”

Val nodded. “I agree! A sweet drink is a must for any time spent here. So, I take it you’re settling in okay?”

Taylor and Jo shared a look. The amount of love held in a single glance made Val’s heart flutter; she was such a sucker for romance.

“The kids love it here,” Taylor answered. “They’d sleep up here if we let them. I just wish we were here under better circumstances.”

 _“But_ we’re extremely grateful for everything you’ve done for us so far,” Jo added. “I feel so much safer staying here than at home.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve gotten in touch with the COLA High Priestess—”

“COLA High Priestess?” Jo laughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Val waved her off. “COLA stands for Coven of Los Angeles. We call them COLA. I don’t think they call themselves that.” She laughed too. “Anyways, I’m leaving for LA tomorrow morning. Hopefully, we’ll figure out a plan to deal with Marcus Pierce. I think your friend should be back in town now. What’s his name again?”

“Sam,” he answered. “Sam Golbach.”

“Sam Golbach,” she repeated with a nod. “Anything I should know?’

“He’ll probably be with his boyfriend, Colby Brock. Other than that… I don’t think so.”

Sam and Colby. She hummed. “Can’t wait to meet them.”

••••••••••

An hour passed, and their hangout of three expanded into a party of six. Reggie texted in the group chat first, asking if he and Jake could come talk about something. Then Corey insisted they wait until he arrived, saying something along the lines of ‘You fuckers better wait for me.’ So, they did after Jake and Sam blew up the chat with sassy GIFs in response.

“Okay, you did _not_ have to do that to my phone,” he whined as he stormed into the apartment. “It froze up so bad that I had to turn it off.”

“Shouldn’t have been so fuckin’ rude, brother,” Jake teased.

Corey rolled his eyes. He pushed the door shut with his foot and walked to the couch. He took a seat on the end next to Hailey. Jake and Reggie were on the other couch, and Sam and Colby claimed the corner.

“Okay,” Sam began, holding his hands out in front of him, “I call this meeting of Occult to order.” He clapped his hands.

“Was that your gavel?” Colby laughed.

Sam grinned. “Yes. So!” He looked from Hailey to Reggie and Jake. “What happened while we were gone?”

“Oh, _so_ much shit, bro,” Reggie answered.

“You never finished the story,” Colby realized. He pointed at Hailey.

“What story?” Corey asked.

“Casey’s funeral was a few days ago,” Sam explained. “Jake and Reggie crashed it. Kind of. Some woman from the San Diego coven showed up asking about me. We listened to a video that Taylor Gambit left on my phone. Uhh… Marcus’ roommate Tyler is a vampire. Marcus is looking for seers ‘cause apparently we’re the only ones who can veil hop and survive or… something.” He hummed, tapped his chin, turned to Colby. “Did I get everything?”

“I think so.”

“Wait, you missed the part about Mar—” Jake began.

Hailey interrupted by loudly clearing her throat. “It’s my story, I’ll tell it.”

“Okay but when it gets to my part, I wanna tell it!”

Reggie and Hailey rolled their eyes together.

“Fine,” she agreed. “So after the viewing ceremony, Reggie, Jake, and I went to the church to spread Casey’s ashes at the sacred land atop the hill. It’s ritual, you know. And, well, Marcus showed up.”

In three short words, the humor in the room evaporated. Colby stilled. Corey’s eyebrows rose. Their eyes were the size of golfballs.

Her demeanor shifted as well. She sighed, gaze falling to the coffee table. “We’re okay,” she reassured. “Nobody was badly hurt. Nothing our healers couldn’t handle, but…” Hesitantly, she tugged at her scarf. It fell away slowly, like it enjoyed the suspense.

“Hailey—!” Sam gasped.

“Unfortunately, bruises have to heal on their own.”

Blue and purple stained her neck. At first glance, it appeared random. Multiple attacks that just morphed together to create one ugly bruise. But the more they observed the injury, the more they could make out a curve in the colors. There were spaces between the blues. The ends were darker shades of purple.

 _Hands,_ they realized. Not at the same time: Corey’s breath caught first. Next, Sam’s face paled then, a few seconds later, Colby’s back straightened, and his hands clenched into fists.

“He’d called Casey a few days before,” she continued like she couldn’t see how _pissed_ the men around her were becoming, “and I told him what happened. The police version, anyway: that he died of a heart attack. He didn’t believe me, of course. He swore he’d get the person who killed Casey, so… I really should’ve seen it coming.”

Sam recovered first—he was always better at recovering first—albeit shaking and breathless from shock. “He… attacked you guys.” Obviously, yeah, but it was the only thing he could _manage._ But once he started talking, he suddenly couldn’t stop. “Holy _shit._ Are you okay?? I mean, besides the—Oh my god. Are you hurt anywhere else?” His eyes shifted to the brothers. “And you guys? Did he hurt you too?!”

Hailey reached for his hand. “Sam, _breathe._ They’re okay. Everyone’s okay. Our coven healers are great.”

“Sorry, I just….” He almost said he’d never known someone who’d been attacked like that before, but that’s a lie. He looked back at Colby, who sat quiet and unmoving. There were bruises on _his_ skin, fading more and more every day, but still very there, a constant reminder of _what almost happened._ Then, he looked at his own arm, scratched up, slowly healing. Seemed like the longer this went on, the more marks they all bore. Maybe he should be used to watching those he loved get hurt, but… how could anyone truly become accustomed to that?

“I know,” she said. She squeezed his hand.

“What happened after?” Colby asked quietly.

Hailey released Sam’s hand and leaned back in her chair. “I trapped him, but he got away before our coveners could detain him.”

_Coveners?_

“But you’ll be pleased to know that…” She waved at him to continue.

Jake pushed to the edge of his seat. His eyes were wide with excitement. “I shot him in the face with fire! Burned his eyebrow off! And basically saved the day, it was fucking _awesome!”_

Colby chuckled. Sam thought it sounded forced, but at least it was a _reaction._ At least he wasn’t just sitting there, quiet, mulling over things. 

“Jake Webber did that?” he said. He grinned at Jake, and okay, color was slowly trickling back into his face. Good.

“Yeah, it was kind of sick,” Reggie admitted. “Looked like something out of a movie.”

“Brother!” Corey laughed. “Nice job!”

“That’s awesome,” Sam agreed. “I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

“Physically? Yeah, we’re good. Mentally?” Reggie hummed. “I’m still trying to convince myself that that was actual magic.”

Corey nodded sympathetically. Sam huffed a laugh.

“So,” Colby said, glancing around at his friends, “anything else that needs to be said? You have the floor.”

“Actually, yeah,” Reggie answered. “Not me, though.” He elbowed Jake. “Him.”

Jake glared.

Sam tilted his head. “What’s up, man?”

Jake didn’t answer for a long time. He stared at the coffee table with his mouth slightly parted, deep in thought for a rare moment in his life.

Corey frowned. “Jake?”

“I can’t keep taking that drug,” he admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Colby said. “That’s cool with us, man. Did something happen with it?” He looked from Sam to Corey confusedly.

“I kept taking it because I felt left out.” He didn’t look up from the table. “You all have these cool abilities. You have a reason to be a part of this. I don’t.”

Sam’s face fell. “Jake…”

“I thought I could help by testing out the drug. Get information on it and stuff, you know.” He shrugged. “I do stupid and dangerous stuff anyways. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Reggie rolled his eyes at that. Then he clenched his jaw.

“And what sucks is… it’s _really fucking cool._ Like, I’ve seen more of LA in the last week than I have in three years. I’ve seen mermaids. Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Demons, I think. Their eyes were black, I don’t know. I’ve seen things most people can literally only dream of. Now, I don’t want to _stop_ taking it! But….” He sighed. “It’s what happens _after_ the drug runs out that scares me.”

“His dealer—Tyler—told him that the side effects are common for the regular Sight,” Reggie said. “So, Sam….”

Sam nodded. “What are they?”

“Strong headaches, sensitivity to light…”

“With you so far.”

“He gets irritated over the smallest shit. And he’s either really tired or can’t sleep at all. Also, vomiting. A lot of it. I thought he was gonna,” he looked at Jake and sighed, “start coughing up blood one day.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head slowly. “No, that… that didn’t happen with me.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “He told me none of it was life threatening, but sometimes, I really feel like I’m going to die. And I _want_ to quit, but I’m scared. What if I’m in too deep? What if I try to quit, and my body is too used to it, so it rejects a detox? What if it… actually… kills me?”

“It won’t,” Hailey promised. “We won’t let that happen. There are plenty of spells to get you through this.”

“Yeah. We’ll help you too,” Colby added. Sam nodded next to him. “And Jake, buddy, you know you don’t have to do dangerous stuff to keep up with us or whatever.”

“Yeah, that’s the _opposite_ of what we’re trying to do,” Corey teased. He snickered softly. “We’re aiming to make it out of this _alive.”_

Jake laughed, even if he didn’t want to.

“So we were talking about a detox earlier,” Reggie said. “He agreed to it. I don’t really know how to do it, but I’m guessing: try it for a week and see what happens?”

Hailey breathed a laugh. “Unfortunately, that’s the best option right now.”

“Jake,” Colby began, drawing his attention, “it’s gonna be okay. We all have your back. You’re not alone here. You can beat this.”

Corey nodded. “Yeah, and we’re going to help you do it.”

Jake sat back against the couch with a sigh of relief. “Thanks, guys. Seriously.” Reggie squeezed his shoulder. 

“And let’s make a pact right now,” Sam announced. “From this point on, let’s be smart about this. Let’s not do any more dangerous things unless it’s a complete last resort.” He met Colby’s knowing look briefly. “Let’s talk to each other more. About everything. Because this is scary. All of it. Colby and I learned early on that we can’t deal with this alone. This world is a team effort. And like Corey said: we’re aiming to make it out alive.”

Hailey smiled. “I think I can get behind that.”

“Me too.”

“Hell yeah!”

Jake nodded. Then he groaned, “I’m not looking forward to the next week.”

Colby answered with a kiss to Sam’s cheek.

“Then I guess that settles it,” Sam chuckled. “The first official meeting of Occult is adjourned!”


	8. detox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake begins his supernatural drug cleanse, and around him, life moves on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy i hope this is the heaviest chapter i write for a while

**DAY 1:**

  
  


Val hummed as her fingers edged under a white flyer pinned to a bulletin board. On it in large, bold letters read: THE ART OF VOODOO; (XXX) XXX-XXXX.

“You offer voodoo studies here?” she asked. She gently tore the flyer from its thumbtack and turned to Hailey. “That’s so cool! I haven’t seen much of the practice outside of New Orleans.”

Hailey frowned. “Um… yes, we thought we’d expand our variety here. You know, it’s important to learn from other cultures in magic.” She squinted at the flyer.

“I agree, totally.”

Behind Val, the front door of the church opened. She turned, even though she wouldn’t know whoever just walked in. She was used to her own coven, instantly recognizing a friend and engaging in quick catch up.

A handsome young man stood in the doorway clad in black jeans and a black button up. The top three buttons were undone and exposed a silver chain necklace against his bare chest. He had dark brown hair with blue dyed bangs. He lingered in the doorway, phone pressed to his ear, and nodded at them with a smile.

Power wafted off him in waves. He wasn’t the most powerful Val had come across, but he was certainly no beginner. She glanced at Hailey with a raised eyebrow.

“I have to go,” the man said. “Bye, love you.” He grinned like whoever was on the other end just said the most funny thing in the world. After he hung up, he pocketed his phone and stepped into the hall. “Hey, Hailey.”

“Colby, perfect timing.” Hailey stepped around Val.

“Colby,” Val repeated. She tilted her head. “Oh, Colby Brock?”

He stilled, raised an eyebrow, but his smile never completely vanished. “Yes…?”

Val offered her hand. “Valentine Cruse, nice to meet you.”

Colby nodded and shook her head. “Oh, nice to meet you too.” He glanced at Hailey, who looked just as confused, then back to Val. “Um, how’d you know my name?”

“Taylor told me when I spoke to him yesterday. I realized I was about to drive up here without even knowing who I was trying to talk to.” Val laughed. “Also you guys are on YouTube, so.”

“I’m just showing Val around the church and introducing her to some people of the coven,” Hailey explained. “Don’t forget she wants to talk to you and Sam later.”

“But no rush!” Val said. “I’m here for a week, so I’m not in any kind of hurry.”

“Good to know.” Colby smiled. “I’ll talk to Sam, and we’ll figure out a good time. It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you later, Hailey.”

The women voiced their goodbyes and watched him disappear around the corner.

“What level is he?” Val asked.

“One.”

Val turned to her in surprise. “No way.”

Hailey nodded with a grin. “I know, it’s crazy to me too.”

“I only know a handful of people who radiated that much magic in only their first year. How is he—”

“I actually have some theories about it.” Hailey jerked her head toward the hall. “Come on, I’ll tell you all about it.”

Val smiled. When she followed Hailey, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up. She chose to ignore it, for now.

••••••••••

Day One wasn’t hard. Jake had a ton of Day Ones tucked under his belt. He sailed through with flying colors on his couch that day with Chipotle in his lap. Reggie sat next to him, halfway finished with his meal and scrolling through Twitter.

Jake tried not to think about how easy this was going. He tried not to think about any of it, especially not how the rest of the week would follow. Doing so made his palms sweat. He took a long drink of his soda.

“How bad do you think this will get?” he asked quietly on a commercial break. He really, really didn’t want to know the answer, yet he couldn’t help himself. The thoughts kept creeping in. He took another long drink.

“I don’t know,” Reggie admitted after a minute. He looked up from his phone and watched Jake obsessively finish his drink. “I hope it doesn’t suck as bad as we think it will.”

“Me too.”

“But hey, you’re not going through this alone. I’m here. Sam and Colby will come over in a second if we call them.”

Jake smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know.”

“And at the end of the week, you’ll be back to your old self.”

“Hopefully.”

“You will be.” Reggie raised his cup to Jake. “To getting better.”

Jake huffed a laugh. He lifted his half empty cup and knocked it against Reggie’s.

“To getting better.”

**DAY 3:**

  
  


Marcus dreamed of memories. It was home, his first home, back in New Orleans. Boat rides on the bayou. Warm summer rains. Jazz music in the Quarter. Mixing herbs with his mother. Tarot lessons with his father.

His father.

Marcus woke with tears in his eyes. He laid on his couch, a light blanket he didn’t remember falling asleep with draped over his shoulders. Morning sun poured in through broken blinds next to the TV. The house was quiet.

“Tyler?” he called as he pushed himself up. He strained his neck to peek around the doorway. There weren’t any signs of life anywhere. He threw back the blanket and rose to his feet. His phone sat next to the TV, still plugged into its charger. He unplugged it and scrolled through his notifications. 

There weren’t many, mostly from Tyler. His roommate went to work. What Marcus told Sam about their day jobs wasn’t a complete lie. While Marcus worked part time at a local diner, just enough for extra money and something to do when he wasn’t focused on the drug business, Tyler enjoyed his full time position as a tattoo artist. He already decided that, even when the Global Drug started gaining traction and making more money, he’d still be working in the parlor on the side.

Marcus couldn’t tear him from the job, even if he wanted to. Tyler loved the art of it all. He used to work in a small shop in his hometown of Julian, CA. His parents didn’t approve of the profession, so at eighteen, he left. He was braver than most, venturing into California’s largest cities on his own, but he had his vampirism on his side. He survived as best he could.

He was turned halfway through high school—Marcus wasn’t sure of the whole story. Tyler didn’t like talking about it.

Marcus crossed the room to the narrow door against the side wall. It wasn’t locked; he never locked it. No reason, unless they had guests over, and neither were _that_ popular. Except for Sam that one time… back before he figured out who Marcus really was. The good days. Marcus thought back on it often. He wished he’d been more careful with Sam. Less pushy, less eager. Maybe he could’ve eased Sam into everything better. Maybe he could’ve convinced Sam that he wasn’t a bad guy, because he wasn’t. Not like people make him out to be.

He slipped into the side room and pulled the door shut behind him. Inside were walls lined with cheap, plastic folding tables. They were messes, covered in ingredients from different species. The one closest to him had blood splatters from either a mermaid or a fairy—he flipped the light off, just to be sure. A fairy. Their blood glows in the dark, you know. On the next table had fangs from vampires—the bad ones. The ones who deserved to be defanged—bunches of werewolf hair, and shards of human bone. At the center of the room sat another long table covered in mixing bowls, crystals, and a cauldron. Yeah: the black bowl that witches in movies hunch over and chant while laughing maniacally. There was a reason they used cauldrons to mix their potions, after all.

A single mirror hung on the left wall. It was magnificent: a wide, full length mirror with an arched top and beautiful gold lining the edges. It wasn’t of this city or even century. Marcus’s mother brought it with them from New Orleans, and he persuaded her to sell it to him a year ago, before he started any of this drug business. It belonged to his father, had his initials carved into the side and everything.

Marcus ran his fingers over the letters. JHP. John Harper Pierce. He was named after a distant relative: Dr. John Bayou. That wasn’t his real name, but he was known by many titles. Marcus’s mother used to tell him stories upon stories of Dr. John and other famous voodoo figures in New Orleans. Surprisingly, his father wasn’t interested in voodoo. He found interest in tarot and witchcraft. He was the person Marcus chose to take lessons from, obviously.

When he died, it was confusing. There wasn’t a definite cause until the doctors told them: heart attack. But that wasn’t true, and both Marcus and his mother knew it. John Harper had been acting weird in the months leading to his death. His mother was strange, too. She always acted like she knew more than she let on. When Marcus came home from school, his father was in the basement, and his mother kept the door locked. To this day, Marcus didn’t know if his mom wanted to keep his dad downstairs or Marcus upstairs.

Marcus tipped his chin back and met his gaze in the mirror. He was the only picture he had of his father. They looked alike: same black curly hair, fair skin, hooked nose, blue eyes. Well, one shared eye color at least. The brown eye came out of nowhere; his mom’s were green.

He missed his parents sometimes. He spoke to his mom from time to time, mostly over the phone. He hadn’t seen her in three years, not since he moved in with Casey at the mansion. She was still in Santa Barbara with her new husband and three cats. Or maybe they were dogs.

He really missed his dad. Every day, some more than others. Today more than yesterday. He tried everything he knew to try contacting John Harper, even going as far as summoning a demon to ask for him. Nothing worked. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he had a few ideas. None of them were good, and the more he considered them, the angrier he became. But he had to know for sure.

Marcus pressed his fingers to the glass. Sometimes, he was tempted to hop on his own. When he got in moods like this, thinking about his dad, yearning to find him, he wanted to inject the drug into his system and leap into the veil solo. Tyler would absolutely kill him if he did that. There wasn’t a guarantee he’d find his way back out. Well, there was _never_ a guarantee any time he hopped, but at least he can tether to someone else. At least they had a better chance of getting out together.

He held his hand against the mirror and used the other to dial a familiar number. He pressed his phone to his ear and met his reflection’s gaze. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe how easy it was to step through the veil. When the drug kicked in and his body fell lucid, a hard mirror crumbled away to a soft curtain, dividing the living from the dead’s true realm. It was mesmerizing.

“What?” Taylor answered. In the background, Marcus could hear young voices, a girl and a boy. The girl sounded ecstatic about the existence of fairies. Marcus smiled.

“Hey, how about a hop today?” Marcus asked.

“I thought you had enough souls to last a while.”

“We do, but—”

“Then why the hell do you want to do it again?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. He poked his tongue against his cheek. “Because it’s fun.”

Taylor scoffed. “No thanks.”

“Or maybe I’m looking for something,” Marcus added quickly. He shifted his weight.

“If _you’re_ looking for it, it can’t be good. For anyone. No.”

Marcus hummed. “Bold words, Taylor. Hey, I hear your daughter talking about fairies. I know where to find some, if you—”

_Click._

He just hung up on him. Marcus scowled. _Rude._ Maybe it was something he said? He tried calling again, swallowed his pride and everything, aimed to apologize. Taylor didn’t answer.

Again. No answer.

God, why didn’t people just give him a _chance?_

His knuckles turned white around his phone.

Marcus sighed. His heartbeat was painful in his chest; he took another deep breath. He scrolled through his contacts. Tyler was working, he wouldn’t answer. His mom was always an option, but he didn’t want to talk to her. Not while he also wanted to throw his phone as hard as he could against the wall. 

He got like this sometimes: blurred vision and gritted teeth and blazing skin that matched the everburning flame where his heart should be. It was like someone else had taken the steering wheel, and he watched trapped from the backseat.

It was only one PM. Ruth worked until one, and then she went to the coven. Their agreement had strict rules against contacting before six PM: don’t do it. It was too risky, someone might know. There were eavesdropping spells. He knew; he’s used them.

That left one person. One _stupid_ person who had his number blocked. One stupid, _lovely_ person who he still held a bit of hope for.

He typed the number after star-67. It reminded him, briefly, of his youth, when he’d prank call his neighbors and school teachers with his friends. They couldn’t trace the call or recognize their voice. They couldn’t block the number. It was perfect, harmless torture.

The line clicked, and Marcus held his breath. He could hear his blood rushing through his ears. He pressed his fingers harder against the glass, like he would break through eventually.

“What do you _want,_ Marcus?” Sam asked tiredly.

Marcus exhaled. He smiled.

••••••••••

Sam stepped inside his apartment whistling. He had an empty bag of Chick-Fil-A in one hand and a half empty cup of soda in the other. He’d been editing videos all day, finally finished one and half of the next, and took a break to get lunch. He picked up Chick-Fil-A and had a whole jam session in his car on his way home, music loud and shaking the car as he sang along.

In other words: Good Day Vibes.

He tossed his trash in the garbage, and his phone rang.

When he looked, his heart sank.

Then: Bad Day Vibes.

He answered with a sigh, “What do you _want,_ Marcus?” Alternatively: _Why do you keep calling me, Marcus? Leave me alone, Marcus._ Any would do, but this was a potentially—this was a dangerous person. One wrong word, and he could kill Sam in a snap. What if there were hex bags hidden in the apartment? Not likely, but still, Sam leaned over the counter to check.

“To talk.”

“About _what?”_

“I just.” Marcus scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to _help_ people? Isn’t that your whole shtick?”

“I’m going to ask one more time Marcus: What. Do. You. Want.”

“Just to fucking talk! About anything. I don’t care.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m hanging up.”

“No, god! Just give me a fucking chance.”

“Why should I? You’re _literally_ insane. You tried to kill Hailey!”

“So it’s okay to defend a murderer but it’s not okay for me to try avenging my best friend?” 

“He was going to kill our friends. Or, if Hailey went with him… who knows what he would’ve done to her.”

“He loved her.”

“Do you _know_ what love is? That wasn’t it. That was abuse,” Sam growled. “You can’t seriously expect to convince me you’re sane if you believe whatever twisted feelings he had for her was even remotely close to love.”

Marcus fell silent on the other end.

Sam sat on the corner of the couch with his back against the wall. “Marcus,” he sighed, “why do you keep calling me?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re one of the few people who can help me get what I want.”

“But I don’t want to help you!” Sam exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and started to pace. “I don’t want any part in whatever the fuck you’re planning because whatever it is, it’s threatening the people I love. Everything that’s happened up to this point: the Witches Forest, the initiation ritual, Sallos, Sabnock, Casey brainwashing me and Jake—”

“I didn’t know he did that,” Marcus interrupted sharply.

“Well, he did. For _you._ All of this has been for you, and it’s only hurt us. So again: why? Why _us?_ Out of all the people in this stupid fucking city?”

“It’s not you specifically. It never was. Us meeting was a _complete_ accident.”

“You literally emailed me to meet up. That wasn’t an accident!”

“That wasn’t the first time we met.”

Sam stopped walking. He physically recoiled and shifted a foot back. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously. _“Yes,_ it was. I think I’d remember you.”

“We didn’t formally meet, but we did run into each other back in August. Literally. I apologized. You didn’t say anything.”

“How—”

“I knew you were a seer. As you know, our kind is a dime a dozen it seems. You were the first seer I came in contact with since I was exiled, so I’m sorry if you intrigued me.” Sam pictured Marcus rolling his eyes.

“Shortly after meeting you, I….” Marcus inhaled a shaky breath. “I did something that… wasn’t me.”

Sam’s stomach turned. He leaned against the bar for support as crazy ideas started running through his head. “What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly. Silence on the other end made his heart rate pick up. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t like thinking about it,” Marcus answered quietly. “But after it happened, I took a break. I focused on working and practicing magic. I started a YouTube channel and began travelling.”

“You met Taylor,” Sam continued, nodded slowly, piecing things together, “told him about the Sight. He said you were only there long enough to give him a few pointers and tell the story of how you forced a demon to give you the Sight. What the fuck, by the way?”

“Really?” Marcus hummed. “I don’t remember telling him that.”

Sam frowned.

“Anyway when I’d finally recovered from what I’d done, I was ready to get back to business. That’s when I contacted you.”

“I still don’t understand why _me.”_

“You and Colby were sought after for separate things. Casey wanted to recruit Colby to help with our project. He was looking for any young witch without a coven who he thought could be easily influenced. Apparently, Colby was difficult to convince.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Honestly Sam,” Marcus huffed, “I wanted your help because I knew you would. I watched your videos. You were a skeptic once, but now you’re just as curious as the next guy. You want to know more about the supernatural because you _are_ supernatural. That’s how this goes. On top of that, you help people. That _is_ your shtick. And I needed the help. You being undeniably attractive was just the cherry on top.”

Sam blinked. _“What?”_

“So maybe it started as a crush, and then maybe I needed your assistance as well. It doesn’t matter now. We’re on opposite sides.”

“Opposite sides of what?” Sam said. “What’re you playing at, Marcus? Really?”

“It’s weird.” He was beginning to _sound_ weird, too. Marcus’ voice drifted, like he spoke from a trance. “One part of me just wants to find my dad. The only part wants people to experience the same pain and fear I felt when I lost him.”

“… Those are two very different things.”

“I know. I feel like two very different minds thought them up.”

“What does that _mean—”_

“I have to go,” Marcus stated abruptly. “Thanks for talking to me. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, Marcus—”

_Click_

He stared at his phone for a long time as he tried digesting the whole conversation. Some parts were easier than others, like why Marcus chose him. He didn’t dwell too much on the crush part—even that made sense, though it made him shudder. That must’ve been why he was so touchy that night of the ritual—but everything else was a bit relieving, oddly enough. At least this wasn’t some fantasy prophecy shit with fate and destiny and whatever. It was just an accident. All of this was one big accident, a case of Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

But then there was the crazy meeting—seriously, what the hell? He racked his brain for memory of it, but he couldn’t recall anything—and the mystery thing Marcus did that _wasn’t him_ and the want to make people experience _pain_ and _fear_ that made his breath catch and his thoughts stagger to a halt. What did that mean—what did _any_ of it mean? What did Marcus _do?_ What happened to his dad? What was the deal with the split personalities?

When Colby came home an hour later, Sam didn’t feel any better about the phone call. He hadn’t worked out any of the mysteries. The more he theorized answers, the more questions surfaced.

“Hey,” Colby said. He paused behind the couch and frowned. “You okay?”

Sam made grabby-hands at him. He snagged Colby’s wrist as soon as he was close and yanked him onto the couch. Sam hooked his leg over Colby’s, grabbed his neck, and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. Colby’s arm wrapped around Sam’s waist and pressed closer. His other hand cupped Sam’s cheek.

“Are you trying to distract me?” Colby asked softly. His forehead rested against Sam’s.

“No.” Sam’s thumb traced Colby’s jawline. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“Talk later?”

Sam nodded. His fingers tangled in Colby’s hair as he connected their lips again.

••••••••••

Day three was itchy. 

It started off okay, but by the time afternoon turned into evening, Jake could feel his fingers get tingly. He didn’t eat much, and Reggie didn’t force him. They filmed a skit video that was half-assed at best. Jake felt horrible about it; he and Reggie obviously weren’t themselves. He hoped they managed to hide it well enough in front of the camera.

He busied himself with his friend group chats. The bigger one with their outside friends kept him entertained. It was mostly filled with memes, jokes, random thoughts and discussions throughout the day. The smaller one with the Occult members kept him grounded. The others checked in with him and Reggie throughout the days. Jake didn’t feel like responding a lot, but at least with Occult, he didn’t have to lie. That made him feel better.

Tara was asking questions. She missed him, and told him constantly. Bad thoughts had crossed his mind a few times over the last few days. He really missed her.

Hailey texted him that night, privately and unprovoked. Maybe she cast a spell that could pick up on emotion in the apartment. Or maybe this was just a perfectly timed event. She wrote:

**Just remember you’re going to get worse before you get better. But you will get better. Goodnight, we’re here when you need us.**

And even though it felt a bit out of the blue, he didn’t care. It was much appreciated, and that’s all that mattered.

  
  


**DAY 5:**

  
  


Four was nauseating. Jake woke up sick, fell asleep sick, and didn’t get much of a break in between. He never coughed up blood, though his insides burned like the linings of his organs were definitely peeling off, so he expected it at any given time. He was more thankful for Reggie’s sake than his own. Okay, maybe a tiny bit of his own as well.

On day five, Sam, Colby, Corey, and Hailey came over. Hailey lifted the spell, and they brought tons of food ranging from pizza rolls to takeout.

“Oh my god, pizza rolls,” Reggie moaned. He grabbed the bag from Sam and walked into the kitchen to set the oven.

“Hey brother,” Colby said to Jake as he sat next to him on the couch. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Jake answered. “Much better actually. I think we can end this.”

Corey took the chair next to Jake. “It’s only been five days, brother. That’s not long enough for a regular drug detox.” He chuckled. Then quickly, with shifty eyes, “I think.”

Colby snickered. “Have something you need to tell us, Corey?”

Corey’s eyes dramatically darted around the room. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously guys, I’m _fine,”_ Jake pushed. “You can’t keep me locked up here.”

“Chill out, man,” Colby said. “It’s only for a few more days.”

They spent the day with Jake. Reggie went back to his apartment for a few hours to catch up on sleep. Corey offered to stay with Jake for a few days to give Reggie a break, but Reggie insisted on seeing the week to the end. So, he came back that evening.

They mostly watched movies and hung out. It felt almost normal, except Jake was much quieter than usual. He only spoke a few words at a time, a sentence at most. For the most part, he kept to himself, brooding.

As the sun began to set, Jake got antsy. He jumped to his feet and paced behind the couch while the credits of their latest movie rolled. He was growing tired of the movies and the pizza rolls and the same walls of his apartment, really. He really just wanted _out_ already.

“Jake?” Corey called.

When he turned, Corey, Colby, and Hailey were staring at him. Sam sat on the floor at Colby’s feet to give Hailey a seat and himself a spot on the table for his food.

“How about a deal?” Jake began. “Let me try it _one more time,_ and then I’ll swear off it for good.”

Hailey shook her head. “If you get back on it now, it’ll take twice as long for you to break the habit the second time around.”

“What if I just don’t break it? Who said I needed to stop taking the stuff anyway?”

“You did,” Colby answered. “You’re the one who agreed to this, man.”

“Well, I made a mistake. I'm over this."

Corey got to his feet first. He walked around the couch and squeezed Jake’s shoulder. “We can’t let you back on that stuff, brother. I know it’s hard, but you’re getting through it! Just a few more days.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Jake argued. He shoved Corey’s hand off. “I’m not waiting a few more days. I want out _now.”_

Corey shifted his weight. His shoulders tensed. “We can’t let you do that man, I’m sorry.”

Jake shifted away as the others met them around the couch. His hands curled into fists and uncurled at his sides. His jaw clenched. They were surrounding him now, and he just wanted out even more. Out of the room. Out of the building. Out of their stupid, claustrophobic watch. He didn’t need them looking out for him. He was okay on his own.

Colby held his hands out in front of him. “Jake… you know we’re just trying to help you, right?”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Jake growled. His skin burned from the tips of his ears to the knuckles on his hands. He stepped forward, sights on the door. Corey shoved him back.

“Brother, seriously,” Corey warned. “Just chill out.”

Jake did not chill out. He did quite the opposite—physically and emotionally. While he thought beads of sweat were forming on his forehead—which had to be happening, right? It was _so hot_ in his apartment, but he couldn’t figure out if the air conditioning broke or if it was just him—Jake surged forward. He shoved past Corey and stormed to the door. Hands grabbed his arms first and yanked him back. There was a lot of yelling. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. Colby suddenly jumped in front of him and shoved him back hard. Jake stumbled backward. He would’ve fallen if Corey didn’t have a hold on his arms.

“Sit the fuck down Jake,” Colby snapped. He shoved Jake back again with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. Truly Pissed Colby was a rare sight. Jake shifted away when he realized all of that anger was because of him.

Jake sat down with a huff. His mind was too blurry for him to really process what just happened. His eyes shifted from Colby to Corey, who stood with his arms crossed next to Colby, equally pissed off. He saw them, but he couldn’t focus on why they were mad because he was boiling, and his mouth was dry like it longed for _something,_ and he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Something cold and sharp dug into his wrist suddenly. He heard one click, then his arm jerked to the left, then another click. Jake looked down in alarm as Sam backed away from the couch. There was a handcuff clamped around his wrist. Jake shook his arm. The chain rattled against a metal bedside table next to the couch. Sam really just handcuffed him to a fucking table.

“Why does he have handcuffs?” Hailey asked from her spot beside Sam.

Sam shook his head. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

“You guys don’t get it!” Jake whined. “It feels like… like I haven’t drank any water in five months, and the _only thing_ I can focus on is water.”

“Jake, we knew this wouldn’t be easy,” Sam sighed. _“You_ knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

“Did you have to handcuff me to a fucking table?”

Sam gestured to Colby and Corey. “You were trying to fight them!”

Jake slumped into the couch with a huff. _“Sorry,”_ he mumbled with an eye roll. He actually maybe meant it, somewhere in the back of his mind, but nobody believed him. Not even him. 

“I know a spell that will mellow him out,” Hailey offered.

Sam shook his head. “No, he’s fine. He’s good.” He watched Jake glare at the coffee table for a second before turning to Colby and Corey for help.

“Jake—” Colby tried.

“You know, I don’t actually _need_ your help,” Jake snapped. “You guys are the reason I’m even here.”

 _“We_ didn’t make you take the stuff!” Corey argued.

“Yeah, but if Sam and Colby hadn’t gotten involved in _any_ of this in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening! It’s their fault I was even targeted at all.”

Sam blinked. 

Colby scoffed. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He chuckled bitterly. “This isn’t you man.”

“Okay, okay,” Hailey sighed. She grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him around the couch. With her other hand, she waved Colby and Corey toward the door. “I think it’s time for you guys to go. I’ll wait with him until Reggie gets back.”

Jake didn’t look up until he heard the door shut and lock. Hailey sighed while turning back to the couch. For a moment, they stared at each other. She slowly retreated back to the living room and took the seat furthest from Jake.

“I know you’re scared and probably just looking for someone to blame,” she began softly, though her eyes were narrowed, “but pointing fingers at the very people making sure you get through this alive isn’t helping anyone. It won’t make you feel better.”

“Why did you stay? We’re not even _friends.”_

Hailey’s shoulders fell. She pursed her lips and suddenly became very interested in her nail beds.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gone once Reggie gets back.” She sighed. “Then you’re his nightmare. Hope you’re nicer to him.”

“Doubt you could stop me. Bet I could just leave.”

“You’re handcuffed to a table.”

“I could break it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “If you manage to get out of that and try to fight me, I’ll kick your ass.”

Jake held her gaze for a long ten seconds before he backed off. He huffed.

  
  


**DAY 7:**

  
  


**Sam: Come to the Santa Monica pier**

**Colby: what?**

**Sam: I’ll meet you there**

Colby beat him there. When Sam finally arrived, he stepped out of his car with a blanket and a bag of food tucked under one arm and drinks in each hand.

“Beach date?” he offered with a grin.

Colby chuckled. He grabbed one of the cups and the bag of food. “Shit, how can I say no?”

“Glad you didn’t.” Sam laughed. “That would’ve been embarrassing.” Colby grinned and wrapped an arm around his waist, and Sam leaned into him.

They found a spot near a lifeguard tower. Sam laid down the blanket—it was an XPLR blanket that they would drop later that year—and they took a seat.

“Give me your phone,” Sam said. He brushed sand off his hands while Colby held his phone out. “No distractions.” He silenced both his and Colby’s phones then laid them to the side. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a Just Us day.”

Colby nodded. “I agree.” He reached into the bag and began dividing out the food.

For two hours, they ate and talked and watched tourists get wiped out by massive waves—for some reason, they always underestimate the ocean. It’s hilarious. They didn’t mention anything supernatural. There was some kind of unspoken rule there, and neither wanted to break it.

“Did I mention, you look cute in your merch,” Colby said. His fingers hooked under the collar of Sam’s shirt and tugged him forward for a quick kiss on the lips, then his nose.

Sam grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re not going to say anything about _my_ outfit?”

 _“Of course.”_ Sam chuckled. “You look sexy in that muscle shirt that you wear most days of the week.”

Colby scoffed. “Shut up.” He playfully tried pushing Sam away, but Sam caught his arm. Sam laughed at his attempts to get away while pulling him close.

They kissed like it was their first time all over again. It sparked the same warm rush of excitement that never _really_ faded, but that day, they could _taste_ it. Their hands were everywhere: hair, shoulders, back. Colby’s fingers pressed into Sam’s hips, and he tugged Sam into his lap. 

Colby could feel him start to pull away—Sam wasn’t big on a lot of PDA like this—and he cupped Sam’s cheek, held him there. His teeth tugged at Sam’s lip. Colby liked the PDA. Not all the time, but on days like this—dates for the first time in forever, rare private time between just the two of them—he loved it. He loved showing the world that Sam _fucking_ Golbach was his boyfriend.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” Sam breathed when they finally pulled away.

“I don’t know; this is nice. We should do this at least once a week.”

“We should have a weekly date night. Like Wednesday.”

“Pizza night,” Colby reminded.

“Oh. Oh, fuck our friends, who needs them?”

“Yeah. Sam and Colby versus the world, right?”

Sam dipped his head. He pecked Colby’s lips. “Exactly.”

They spent most of their day at the beach, either walking along the shoreline or eating ice cream on the pier. Some fans caught up to them, asked for pictures and autographs, but other than that, they were left alone. They each posted on their social medias with cute kissing selfies; their fanbase revelled in the sweetness of Solby.

For five or six hours, they sank into who they were pre-supernatural. Just Sam and Colby: Influencers. In the mess of things, they’d forgotten how simple life used to be.

“Thursday,” Sam decided when they reached their cars. “Date night.”

Colby hummed. “Thursday.” He nodded and smiled. “Yeah, we can make that work.”

••••••••••

If Five was a cannon—the anger and yelling—that cracked the foundations of Jake’s addiction, Day Six was the crumble and fall. Jake had the biggest appetite he’d had since the start of the week. He ate the entire second bag of pizza rolls. Color was starting to seep back into Jake’s skin. Reggie didn’t even tease him for being a pig; he was just happy to see glimpses of his brother again.

There were more tears than words that day. Reggie would never tell a soul.

After a long week, Day Seven came through like an exhale from the breath everybody was holding. Especially Jake, even if he didn’t realize it. He fell asleep at eleven the night before and didn’t wake up until three the next day. When he finally woke, it was with a headache. A bearable headache. He really almost cried again.

His friends came over around one that afternoon. They seemed unfazed from their last visit and greeted him with warm smiles. It made his stomach churn with guilt, which was another blessing in disguise. At least he could feel guilty again. There weren’t any angry voices in his head, dishing out blame where it didn’t belong.

“I’m sorry about the other day guys,” he said with a sigh. “I… I wasn’t… _clearly,_ I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s all good, brother. None of us blame you.”

Corey nodded. “Yeah. We’re just glad you’re feeling better.”

“I am. I don’t feel _completely_ like myself, but… I am myself. Like my old, normal self. I don’t know if that even makes sense.” 

Colby chuckled. “I think we understand.”

“I hope this means I’m done babysitting you,” Reggie complained. “You’re a literal child _without_ the drugs.”

Jake grabbed a pillow from behind Hailey and threw it at Reggie’s head. It hit him in the face before he could dodge.

“Ow! Hey!” Reggie threw it back. “You’re supposed to _thank_ me for staying here and sleeping on that uncomfortable ass couch for a week.” He was joking, of course, and everybody laughed at them. But Jake rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for looking out for me, brother.”

Reggie looked at his phone with a smile. He was avoiding the mushy brotherly moment, because that’s not who they are, but Jake knew, and the corner of his mouth curved into a smirk.

“You guys too,” he added, looking between each of his friends. “I said some really shitty things. I don’t blame you guys for this; this was all my fault. I’m really fucking glad you guys were there for me.”

“You know, I see something different about him,” Colby realized. He leaned into Sam while looking at Corey and pointing at Jake. “He’s a sap now.”

Jake scoffed. He rolled his eyes. “No way. I take back my take back. Hailey’s my favorite now; I hate all of you.”

Hailey turned to the boys with a smug grin. _“Ha.”_ She looked up at Jake. “So, we _are_ friends?”

His shoulders slumped. “Yes. I’m sorry. Thanks for getting me out of the handcuffs.”

“Did you find the key?” Sam asked. “It wasn’t with the cuffs, so I thought he lost them.”

Hailey shook her head. “Who needs a key when you have fire magic?”

Sam, Colby, and Corey stared at her with wide eyes. Reggie looked up from his phone and laughed. He said, “Yeah I was there. It was hilarious.”  
Hailey grinned.

Jake took a seat next to Corey. He listened to Reggie tell the story of Hailey melting the cuffs while Jake took it like a baby: his anger evaporated quickly, and pure fear struck his core. He whined the whole time. Hailey looked pretty proud of herself from her spot between Sam and Corey. Everybody laughed. Jake could feel himself slowly sinking back into the familiarity of his best friends. There was still a pull, something uneasy that made him want to vomit, but it wasn't as strong as the beginning of the week.

He could feel himself getting better, slowly. He was just happy he hadn't driven anyone away after Day Five.

He didn't really feel like the tag along anymore. Clearly, his friends didn't see him like that. He was the only one crazy enough to try the drug. Yeah it didn't end well, but he did it. Him. And his friends were there when it was over; they caught him when he fell.

The corners of Jake's mouth curved into a small smile.

He was thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so long and late and i'm sorry for both… though you're probably happy with the length lol. i just really needed to get back on track (i totally veered in the 3rd chapter oops)
> 
> i think the quarantine is finally catching up to me. my motivation was completely shot this week… i didn't even want to get out of bed some days. it's all good, i think i'm okay mentally, i just didn't want to do… anything. and for that reason, i'm giving myself a more flexible updating schedule. i'll try my hardest to have it up by thursday, but if it's not, i can promise a chapter the following weekend.
> 
> hope you understand & thanks for reading! hope you all have an awesome week :)


	9. girls' night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hailey and Val go clubbing.

Wednesday began with a meeting in Hailey’s office. Sam and Colby sat in the chairs across from Hailey’s desk. Val and Hailey were in front of them: Hailey in her chair and Val leaned against the window.

“I feel like we’re about to be interrogated,” Sam joked. He pulled at his sleeves and looked at Colby.

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Val reassured. “I just want to know what you know about Marcus. How’d you meet him in the first place?”

Sam wanted to answer how he remembered—the innocent email and mall meetup—but he stumbled. That wasn’t how they _actually_ met, was it? They really crossed paths months earlier, if Marcus was telling the truth. What if he wasn’t, though? He could just be trying to get into Sam’s head. But then…what good would lying do? Sam internally groaned. Why couldn’t things be easy for once?

“He pretended to be a YouTuber looking to collab with Sam,” Colby answered. He looked from Sam to Val.

Val watched Sam. “Is that true?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. He went by the name Matt Walker. For a while, he just seemed like a normal guy. His timing was weird, though. We filmed at the Stanley Hotel, and he was there. Randomly. Then he suggested this place called the Witches Forest where his uncle had a cabin and gave us the key to it. There’s where…” Sam looked at Colby.

“That’s where we learned that werewolves are real,” Colby continued with a slow head nod, as if reassuring himself that they were actually real. Sam watched him sympathetically. There were a lot of questions that following day. They were never voiced, but Sam could see it in Colby’s eyes. The confusion and doubt set in quickly. Colby, for days after the attack, couldn’t fully convince himself that he actually saw a werewolf.

“And I fought one,” Colby added.

Val’s jaw dropped. “No way. You _fought_ a werewolf?”

“Well I…” Colby bit his lip. “I, like, hit it with fire once. And it didn’t kill me, so.” He shrugged.

“And you’re a fucking level one?” Val turned to Hailey with wide eyes. “What the _hell?”_

Hailey waved her off. “Continue.”

“Right, sorry.” Val cleared her throat. “Did anything happen on those trips? Did he ever reveal his true self or try to harm you?”

Sam shook his head. He couldn’t recall anything that struck him as off in those early days. Marcus was good at being inconspicuous, that was for sure.

But Colby made a noise that said otherwise. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” he admitted. He actively avoided Sam’s eyes. “I didn’t think I heard it right—or at all—when it first happened, and then I forgot, so that’s why I never mentioned anything, but…” He raised his chin and glanced between the women and Sam. “One of them said that I was twenty-something with blue hair. It sounded like they were checking, like someone fed them that information.”

“You think it was Marcus?” Sam asked.

“Who else would it have been?” Colby finally looked at him. “I just don’t know _why.”_ He held Sam’s gaze, and Sam almost wanted to point out the secret. If they were alone, he might’ve, and there could’ve been a small argument. But they had an audience, so Sam stayed quiet. 

Colby added softly, like he knew what was running through Sam’s head, and he probably did, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Sam answered. It was. He really didn’t have any place to say it wasn’t.

“So, he wanted to kill you?” Val said. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“No way. If he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead.” Colby laughed dryly. “I was _really_ outnumbered.”

“Maybe he just wanted to scare you?” Hailey offered.

Colby shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“He told me he sent us there so that we would find out about werewolves,” Sam said. “He said he’d known we’d be curious and want to know more.”

“When did he tell you that?” Val said.

“After the—”

“They met up one night to film a video,” Hailey interrupted. She didn’t look at either of the boys. “Sam confronted him about the Stanley Hotel and the Witches Forest, and Marcus came clean about his identity.”

Sam and Colby shared a confused look.

Val hummed. “I don’t understand why everything keeps coming back to you.” She pointed at Sam then crossed her arms over her chest. “And I can’t figure your magic out. It’s weird; I’ve only sensed that kind a handful of times.”

“What do you mean?” Colby asked. “What kind?”

Val raised an eyebrow. “I could be wrong, but I think it’s called summoner’s magic.”

Hailey shook her head. “That’s a rare type of magic though. He’s not a witch to begin with. I mean, the only people who have summoner’s magic,” she looked at Sam, “are the ones who have previous occult…” Her face fell with realization. “Ties.”

Sam’s narrowed eyes jumped between Hailey and Val and even Colby. He asked, “Okay, can someone explain that better? I’m completely lost.”

Val pressed her hands flat against the desk’s surface next to Hailey and leaned forward. “So basically, summoner’s magic can only be obtained after a demonic possession. The thing is: normal people have been possessed before and didn’t develop that magic, which means the magician has to have previous occult ties prior to being possessed. In other words, you either have to be a witch already or you’re some other supernatural creature.”

“Or…” Sam argued hesitantly, “… I’m a seer.” He sat back in his chair and pulled at his shirt sleeves. The seer reputation wasn’t lost on him. Typical witches weren’t fans. Typical spirits weren’t fans. In the back of his mind, he’d always wondered what would happen if a stranger magician learned of his demonic Sight.

Val stood abruptly after hearing this. She crossed her arms over her chest again and glanced between Colby and Hailey with one eyebrow raised. 

“Seriously?” she asked. “Like, deadass?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Colby demanded. He mirrored her cocked eyebrow and set his jaw. Across from him, Hailey watched Val with the same intensity. If Sam were alone encountering a stranger who knew his secret, he might be nervous about the reaction. Sitting between Hailey and Colby though, there wasn’t an ounce of anxiety. With them, he was safe.

“Everything, actually,” Val breathed. “Things are beginning to make sense, though. _No wonder_ all of these connections with Marcus keep going back to you! You’re the same pest—”

 _Pest._ _Whoa._ That was new.

“—dangerous to yourself and others, reckless, _cursed_ —”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Colby growled. He moved to get up, but Sam caught his arm. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about him.”

“I don’t have to. It’s the same story: some normal pushed too far with something they have no business getting involved in, and they paid the ultimate price. And then they want us to feel bad for them, to waste our magic on trying to take it away even though it’s _impossible,_ because of a mistake that they deserve. It’s no one’s fault but their own that they’re like this.”

 _“How long have you been this way?”_ Corey asked him once, when he’d just found out about everything. It left a weird taste in Sam’s mouth; sounded like asking someone how long they’d had a disease or something. He didn’t like it then, and he certainly didn’t like it now.

“First of all, I’d rather you not pity me,” Sam snapped. “I’m not looking for _anyone_ to feel bad for me, much less you. I know what I did. I take full responsibility. Second, it _is_ possible. It’s happened, but I guess San Diego is out of the loop.”

Hailey sighed. “Sam—”

“Seers are _evil._ They’ve been touched by _demons.”_

Sam’s grip on Colby’s arm might’ve fallen at her words. 

She scoffed as she looked at Hailey. “Hailey, you should know this. You’re _High Priestess—”_

“Valentina, you’re not thinking rationally. You don’t even _know_ him. You’re stereotyping,” Hailey said calmly. She inhaled deeply. “You came all this way to get information on Marcus, why?”

Val shifted back. “Because he attacked Taylor Gambit. And Taylor wants to protect his family, and I want to protect him.”

“I guess you don’t know Taylor’s a seer too,” Colby said. He scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, of course you don’t. You wouldn’t have helped him if you had.”

Her face scrunched in confusion. She didn’t respond.

Hailey continued, “If you truly want to protect him and help stop Marcus, you have to have a more open mind. If you only see my friends as enemies, then we can’t work together. I won’t have them in unsafe positions just to play nice with you.”

“Casey would’ve.”

“I am not him.”

Val nodded slowly. “Okay. Noted.” She didn’t appear upset by Hailey’s words. Shocked, yes, but not upset. Maybe… if Sam could think clearer… maybe he could suggest she was impressed. _Mildly_ , with a _tiny_ hint of a smile as she met Hailey’s eye.

Her shoulders straightened. Sam watched the authoritative mask fall back into place. She returned to her spot by the window.

“I don’t really want to continue after all that,” Colby admitted with a humorless laugh. “I don’t want her anywhere near us.”

Sam made a noise of agreement. He couldn’t exactly focus on his own words because Val’s were still echoing in his head. Seers are _evil._ They’ve been touched by _demons._ Was that really what witches thought of seers? He expected the dangerous and reckless part, yeah, but evil? Maybe he should’ve expected that too, but he couldn’t shake it. Evil. _Pure evil._

_Exactly what he thought of himself once._

… Maybe he still did.

“How did you get the Sight?” Val asked.

“Fuck you,” Colby spat.

“Colby,” Hailey said sternly.

He ignored her. “How he got it is none of your business. _He_ is none of your business.”

“If it has to do with Marcus Pierce—”

“It doesn’t.”

A thick blanket of silence fell over the office. Sam met Hailey’s gaze when he looked up from the desk. She watched him with soft eyes. He shifted his attention immediately.

Colby stood. “I think Hailey can fill you in on the rest.” He pulled Sam up by his hand. “We’re leaving.” He dragged Sam out of the room. Hailey didn’t stop them.

They stormed down the hall in silence. Sam kept close to Colby, fingers intertwined, hands in a tight grip. They passed Ruth’s room. Her door was open, and the same little girl from before stood in the doorway. Behind her, Ruth sat in her rocking chair by the window.

The little girl watched Sam curiously. Sam stared back, absently noting her features to maybe ask Colby or Hailey about later. Maybe her mystery can distract him from dark, intrusive thoughts beginning to creep in.

In the car, Sam broke the silence, “So, that’s how witches see seers huh?” He laughed.

Colby shook his head. “She’s a bitch.”

“Yeah.” Sam reached behind him to grab his seatbelt. “I just can’t, like… I used to question, like genuinely question whether I was evil, and she just said it. She said seers are evil, and I can’t… stop thinking about it.”

“Hey, look at me.” Sam looked on his own, but Colby still grabbed his chin. He leaned on the console, so they were only inches apart. “You are so far from evil, baby. You’re not even in the same fucking… universe as an evil person. You never have been, and having the Sight will never change that.”

“I know. I know, I do, I just,” Sam shrugged and shook his head, “forget sometimes.”

“Lucky for you, I can remember for the both of us.” Colby smiled. He kissed Sam softly, and when he pulled away, Sam was smiling too. “You wanna get food on the way home?” He turned the car on.

“Chick Filla?” Sam asked hopefully.

Colby snickered. “Yeah, sure.”

Back in Hailey’s office, Val sank into Colby’s chair with a huff. She barely noticed Hailey’s hard stare against her face as she replayed things in her head. Now that the men were gone, she could think clearer. Sam was a seer. _Taylor_ was a seer, which annoyingly made more sense about his whole situation. She’d never met a seer, but there were stories. Of course there were; they weren’t supposed to _exist._ No regular human was supposed to have the full, unlimited ability to peek into the afterlife. 

“I feel like I’ve been… bamboozled,” Val admitted.

“You treated him unfairly,” Hailey said. “You cut him down without ever giving him a chance.”

“But the _stories._ Surely you’ve heard them: seers manipulate demons to do their bidding. Seers can command demons to possess people on sight. Seers are _actual demons_ themselves.”

“Of course, but don’t they sound similar to what humans say about _us?_ That we’re satanic worshippers? That we’re spawns of demons? It’s the same thing yet for some reason, witches think they’re above seers because our power is given at birth.” When Val didn’t respond, Hailey continued, “You say you’re doing this because you want to protect Taylor, which means you don’t think he’s evil and demonic. Otherwise, you wouldn’t help him. At least I _hope_ not.”

“I wouldn’t,” Val confirmed.

“Exactly. You didn’t know he was a seer, so you didn’t treat him any different. I hope you still don’t when you return home.”

Val shook her head. She pinched the bridge of her nose before running a hand through her hair.

“I want to know more about them,” she decided. “Sam and Colby. Who exactly am I dealing with here?”

Hailey took a deep breath. She turned her chair left and right with her toe and stared at the ceiling.

“You’re dealing with probably the most genuine people I’ve met in a long time. If they see you as a friend, you’re set for life. If you’re an enemy though,” she glanced at Hailey, “they won’t actively hold it against you, but I think they’re on their way to be people to watch out for.”

“They seem harmless.”

“They’re learning. You’re already shocked about Colby, and you don’t even know that he successfully performed instinct magic a few weeks ago. As a level one.”

Val pressed her lips together. “Impressive.”

“And Sam, if he chooses to work on his summoner’s magic, will be just as dangerous. In a good way, though. They’re on the right side. Taylor and Sam are _friends._ That’s why Taylor sent you here—he thought Sam could help.”

“So Sam doesn’t have any special connection with Marcus? It’s just the fact that he’s a seer?”

“As far as I know, yes. But even if there’s more to it, Sam is _not_ on his side. I promise.”

“I messed up, huh?”

“Yes. I think they’ll forgive you though, just give them a few days.”

“Well, I’ll be back in San Diego by tonight. Maybe we won’t cross paths again.” Val stood. “Thank you for having me as a guest in your coven. I’ve actually always wanted to see this place.”

As she turned to leave, Hailey called after her, “You should still apologize to Sam. Just because he’s not evil doesn’t mean he doesn’t already have those ideas. I think he took your words to heart. However hard you think having the Sight is, if at all, I can guarantee it’s ten times harder.”

Val poked her tongue into her cheek. She nodded slowly. “I’ll… keep a note of that.” She turned to look at Hailey. “Bye, Hailey.”

Hailey gave her a small smile. “Bye, Val.”

••••••••••

That evening, Hailey ventured out of her apartment to collect her mail from downstairs. As she stepped into the hall, she passed a few strangers around her age heading for Sam and Colby’s place. When their door opened, she heard talking and laughter. She hummed; they must be having a party.

As she turned away from the mailroom and shifted through the small pile of envelopes, her phone rang. She shuffled the mail into one hand and pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hi Hailey, it’s Val.” 

“Oh hey, what’s going on?”

“Well I just learned that I accidentally booked an extra night at my hotel,” Val explained. “Would you, maybe, want to do something tonight?”

Hailey worried her lip. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe. What’re you thinking?”

“I haven’t been to any LA clubs.”

“Neither have I.”

“Great! So I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Uh…” Hailey shifted her weight. “Sure. Okay.”

“Awesome! See you then.”

The line clicked. She stayed against the wall for a moment, thinking about what she just agreed to.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hangout with Val. Despite what happened today, she seemed like a nice person. Hailey could handle her one-on-one in the comfort of her office or in the presence of her friends, but not at a club. She’d never been a big drinker. Well, she’d never drank much besides wine. She was careful about it in high school, and Casey only ever bought wine. They certainly weren’t the couple going out for drinks with friends. 

Instead, they were quiet and preferred a peaceful night in. Hailey always enjoyed those nights where she’d read or they’d watch movies together. Those were the times their relationship was the most genuine. She missed nights like those sometimes.

The elevator doors were about to close when someone shouted, “Hold the elevator!”

Hailey kicked her foot in front of the door and pushed it back. Sam raced into the elevator carrying two boxes of pizzas.

“Thanks,” he breathed. “I did _not_ want to be stuck holding these and waiting for another elevator. They’re hot.”

“No kidding,” she laughed. “What’s the occasion?”

“We have a pizza night every Wednesday. Just us and our friend group.”

“Ah, I see. Smells good.”

“I know, right? Somehow, the same guy keeps delivering these every week.” Sam laughed. “We’re literally on a first name basis now.”

“In a few weeks, you’ll have to invite him to pizza night too.”

“Yeah, at least he can provide something. Everyone else just takes up space, films videos, and leaves.” He never stopped grinning. She could see the fondness in his eyes as he spoke about them. His affection was contagious; she found herself smiling too. “You’re more than welcome to come join, by the way.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “If you want to. Reggie and Jake are there. Colby’s out with his friends, but he should be around soon.”

“I don’t know. I’m not an especially social person.”

“That’s okay. They’re all really friendly and nice, but if you want to just sit around and hangout, that’s fine too.”

That still felt out of her comfort zone, but at least she’d have some familiar faces around. As relaxing as staying home most nights usually was, she had to admit being around people every once and a while would also be nice. His offer was tempting, and the pizza really smelled so good.

“I can’t tonight,” she sighed. “I actually have other plans.”

“You have friends besides us?”

Hailey smacked his arm. He laughed, and they stepped out of the elevator. 

“Well, she’s not exactly a friend. She’s not an enemy, though. I mean, not to me—”

“Hailey.” Sam stopped in front of her. He raised his eyebrows. “Blink twice if you need help.”

She breathed a laugh. “It’s not like that. I consented to the hangout, it’s just… a lot of things. First of all, it’s with Valentina.”

“Oh….”

“I explained some things to her, and I think she understands her mistake. She admitted she was wrong.”

He nodded slowly. “Right….”

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I’m not. Some people just don’t like me. There’s nothing I can do about that.” He shrugged. “Let me put these pizzas down, and then we’ll talk okay?”

She nodded. When they reached their doors, he went left and she headed right into her apartment. She laid her mail on the coffee table and checked her phone. Forty-five minutes until Val would pick her up. The more she thought about it, the more excuses she thought of to not go through with it.

“I’m back,” Sam announced as he walked through the door. He had two pieces of cheese pizza in one hand and napkins in the other. “I grabbed you some pizza.”

Hailey smiled. “Thank you.”

“So,” Sam looked around the apartment, “what’s up?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“Promise.” He took a bite of his pizza.

“She invited me to go clubbing… and I’ve never done that before.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Sam waved a hand like it was truly no big deal. “Drink as soon as you get there. Alcohol will help you loosen up.”

“But I don’t know how to act or what to wear! I hardly know Val, so what if I’m just awkward and no fun all night?” Hailey leaned against the bar with a huff. She anxiously nibbled at her food. _“Why_ did I agree to this?”

“Because you need to experience this! I get that you’re nervous, but once you do it the first time, it’ll be easier the second time around. Plus the only way to get more comfortable with someone is to be around them.”

“I don’t really _need_ another friend, do I? I have you and Colby and the other guys. That’s _plenty,_ in my opinion.”

Sam grinned. “Well yeah, we’ll always be here for you, but I think you need a girl friend too.”

“I have Ruth.”

“A girl friend _your age.”_

She huffed. “I suppose that would be nice, but….”

“But nothing! You already said yes to her, so there’s no backing out. How long do you have?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Easy.”

“Okay Mr. Confident, what do I wear tonight?” Sam shrugged. He finished his pizza and wiped his hand on his jeans. “You have a napkin.”

“Oh. Right.”

She rolled her eyes. Maybe she _did_ need to hang out with more girls….

“I can call for help,” he offered. “One of the girls would be perfect.”

“Oh, you have girl friends too?”

“I have _girl_ friends, I have a _boyfriend,”_ Sam snickered, “I have every kind of friend.” He typed out a message on his phone. “Are you cool with having someone come over?”

“Not really; it’s humiliating. I’m the High Priestess of the Coven of Los Angeles. I shouldn’t be this worried about a girls’ night.”  
He smiled sympathetically. “Hey, it’s okay to be a High Priestess and still be anxious about things. Nerves come with being human.”

“But I’m not a _human._ I’m a _witch.”_

“Then… What about a confidence spell? Or an… anti… anxiety potion? Does that exist?”

Her face lit up. She pushed off the wall with a gasp. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” She laid her pizza and napkin on the counter then stormed into her bedroom. She heard Sam answer a call behind her.

Laying on her dresser was an altar decorated with crystals she picked up over the years along with incense and fresh rose petals she replaced every few days. Among her crystals was a ruby gemstone pendant that she bought from a New Age shop in San Francisco. She put it on a chain to wear as a necklace for the days she needed the extra boost of confidence. The ruby represents love and passion, but it’s also a talisman for self-confidence.

Mainstream witches wear and carry around crystals for the natural energies the gems give off. Hailey’s people preferred tapping into those energies and enhancing them with their own magical touch, when needed of course. Manipulate the crystal too much and it will lose its power.

She held the ruby in a closed fist and whispered a spell. She hung the ruby around her neck and turned to her closet.

As she searched for something to wear, the crystal against her skin began to warm. She could feel its magic seeping into her bones and coursing through her veins. Only when she chose a dress over skinny jeans was she absolutely certain it worked, though.

A few minutes later, she stepped out of her bedroom to show Sam her finished look. There were more voices in the living room than she remembered, and if Regular Hailey was still behind the wheel, maybe she would’ve stopped to figure out who it was first. But Confident Hailey strolled down the hall and into the open like she wouldn’t be bothered if _ten_ people waited in the living room.

“When would we leave?” Sam asked.

Colby shrugged. “She said this weekend works. How does that sound?”

Sam leaned into Colby’s side. He kissed his cheek and smiled. “Sounds awesome; let’s do it.”

_Click, click, click_

“How do I look?” Hailey asked. She stopped by the couch and smirked at them. She wore a tight red dress to match her necklace. It fell longer than typical clubbing dresses—just past her knee—but the shortest end was a high cut mid-thigh. Casey bought it for her for dinner once, back when they were only dating. She may never admit it, but this dress was among her favorite pieces of clothing in her closet. A pair of red heels she wore at her high school graduation matched perfectly. She wasn’t an expert on hair, so she merely pulled it back into a high ponytail, and her face glowed with more defined eyebrows, eyeliner, and mascara.

“Daaamn,” Colby answered. “You look _good,_ Hailey.”

Hailey grinned. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you really do,” Sam agreed. “You look like a totally different person. What spell did you use?”

Colby elbowed him gently. “That’s rude.”

“What? No, I mean _confidence_ spell. She was freaking out half an hour ago, and now she’s, well…” He smiled. “You look like you’re ready to take down a whole army.”

Hailey lifted her necklace. “It’s enhanced crystal magic. Rubies give off energies of love, passion, and self-confidence. Our magic can tap into the natural powers of gems and strengthen them to our benefit.”

“Whoa,” Colby breathed. “That’s fucking cool. I didn’t think you had friends outside of us.”

“It’s Val. She accidentally stayed another night and wanted to hang out.” Hailey shrugged.

Colby looked at Sam with a frowned. “Accidentally—?”

“Oh, she’s here! The Uber’s here.” Hailey grabbed her debit card and license from her wallet and stuck them into her phone case. She also snatched a tube of lipgloss and her keys. She didn’t need her purse because her dress had _pockets—_ which automatically made any piece of clothing ten times more _amazing._

“Okay, have fun,” Sam said with a grin. “Be safe. Call if you need us.” He and Colby followed her into the hallway.

Hailey nodded at them. “Have a good night, boys. Enjoy your party.” She listened for their door to open and close behind her. When she reached the elevator, she looked over her shoulder to make sure she was alone.

In the silence of the empty hallway, Hailey took a deep, slow breath. She pressed the elevator button.

••••••••••

Her magic kicked into overdrive at the club. Val ordered their drinks, and Hailey downed the first shot as soon as her fingers wrapped around the glass. She called for a second before Val could turn around to compliment her outfit. They fit well together in their red form fitting dresses and heels.

As soon as the alcohol settled in, it blended with her magic, and suddenly, she became the life of the party. Things got blurry. They only stayed on the dance floor for two minutes, or… was it two hours? There were a ton of people. Everybody hyped her up. Her body was so _warm_ with alcohol and adrenaline and she loved _every bit of it._

She talked to the Uber driver the whole ride back to her apartment. Val sat next to her, her arm looped around Hailey’s, and played with the backseat air controls. Val was a touchy drunk. Loved attention. Very affectionate. She played with Hailey’s hair while Hailey rambled about her favorite type of alcohol with the girl in the front seat. No, not a girl. They didn’t like feminine pronouns—that was actually their first conversation when Hailey got in the car, and she apologized more times than necessary. Somehow they shifted from gender fluid people to the best kind of breakfast food. It was marvelous.

Their driver helped them to the front door. While Hailey fumbled with her keys, Val focused her attention on their driver. She talked and smiled and wrapped her arms around them, and they let her.

When Hailey finally unlocked the door, she turned to see Val locking lips with them. Her fingers raked through their hair, nails gently scraping against their scalp and her teeth tugging at their lower lip whenever they’d break away for air. Hailey leaned against the open door and looked around silently. The moment of stillness gave her a chance to focus on how absolutely fuzzy and distorted her head felt. It made her laugh. She giggled at first, then she laughed out loud, and Val finally pulled away from the stranger.

“You’re damn cute,” Val slurred. She wiped the corner of her lip with a smirk.

“Lesssss go,” Hailey whined. “I’m hungryy.”

Val took her hand, and they walked across the lobby to the elevators. They didn’t stop holding hands, even though it was weird. It was weird, right? Sober Hailey would probably think so. Wouldn’t she? Maybe, when she had a moment to catch her breath, she could have a talk with Sober Hailey and convince her to be as friendly as Drunk Hailey.

The elevator buttons didn’t have numbers. Or maybe they did. No matter how hard she squinted, she couldn’t make them out.

“What floor?” Val asked.

“Top.”

Val touched the top two buttons. The elevator began to move, and Hailey staggered back into the wall. Her stomach _and_ head shifted _up_ with the elevator, honest. It made her sick. She pressed a hand to her temple. Val leaned against her.

“Okay?” she asked.

“I feel sick.”

“Hold on, hold on, we’re almost there.”

When the elevator opened at the first stop, Hailey peeked into the hall and looked around. She backed into the elevator and shook her head.

“How’d you know that wasn’t it?” Val asked.

“Wrong vibes.”

“Did you just say _vibes?”_

“Yeah?”

Val laughed. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”

The elevator opened again, and Val dragged her into the hall. There were people by her door, Colby and a tall dark skinned man with a camera.

“Colby!” Hailey called.

Colby turned, and suddenly, he wasn’t Colby anymore. Hailey stopped in her tracks. Val squinted. They were drunk, sure, but how did he face change that much?

“Not Colby,” Hailey whispered.

 _“Looks_ like Colby,” Val argued.

“Looks like Jake too.”

“Who’s Jake?”

“He’s the one who looks like Colby. But isn’t.”

Val shook her head slowly and laughed out loud. “God, I love drunk explanations.”

When they neared the strangers, Not Colby stepped closer to Sam and Colby’s apartment. “I can get Colby, if you need him,” he offered.

Val pouted. “Colby doesn’t like me.”

“You said Sam was _evil.”_

“I thought he was!”

Hailey leaned against her door frame and held her hands over her lock. “Cover me,” she muttered.

Not Colby and his stranger friend had retreated into the apartment, so the hallway was empty once more, but Val still stood guard like her sole purpose was to protect the president. She listened hard for anything odd. It really took every ounce of brain power she could muster.

A door clicked, Hailey whispered a celebration, and then another door clicked. While Hailey stumbled into her apartment, Sam stepped out of his. Colby followed right behind and pulled the door shut after him.

“Hey,” Val said. She shifted her weight.

“Hey,” Sam answered. Colby leaned against the wall next to him. “Fun night?”

Val jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s fucking _wasted._ I can’t believe Sober Hailey,” she held her palms out like she could grip each persona in her hands, “and Drunk Hailey are the same people. _I love it.”_ She shifted her weight. “Sam.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll have to say this again when I’m sober, but… I’m _really_ sorry for what I said earlier. Wasn’t cool.”

Sam shared a look with Colby, who stood with his arms crossed right next to Sam so their arms brushed against each other, and suddenly, Val sensed some of those vibes Hailey was talking about. They were protective. _He_ was protective and clearly on guard and _kept touching Sam,_ and— _aww._ She smiled. They were cute.

She told them. Colby chuckled. “Thanks.” Secretly, she was proud. Maybe he didn’t hate her.

“Are you guys good?” Sam asked. He glanced at Hailey’s door.

Val’s eyebrows furrowed. Then, she smiled. “Yeah, don’t worry.” She carefully backed into Hailey’s apartment. The pads of her fingers dragged across the wall for support. “I got her. Goodnight!” She shut the door and locked it behind her.

Hailey lay on her white couch which matched the other white couch which matched the _white rug_ which… There was a lot of _white_ in the room. And tan and dark brown. It was all a bit bland, but she wouldn’t admit it. She really wasn’t so rude.

“I danced with men tonight,” Hailey realized. She stared at her ceiling.

Val laid on the loveseat next to her. As she sank into the uncomfortable cushions, she sighed with content. She could feel her high wearing off and her eyes getting droopy.

“I really just acted like my husband didn’t just die,” Hailey continued. She was muttering now.

“I’m sorry,” Val said. She didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Not your fault either.”

“It is. Literally.”

Val yawned. “Are you admitting to murder right now?”

“Maybe.”

_“… Oh.”_

“Did you really think Sam was evil?”

“Based on stories I’ve heard, yeah.”

“Would you kill him for it?”

“What?”

Hailey rolled onto her stomach, and Val followed. They stared at each other across the couches.

“I killed Casey because he was evil,” Hailey admitted quietly. “But I don’t know if he deserved to die.”

“You’re not the type of person who would kill without reason.”

“I used to think I wasn’t the type of person who would kill anything.”

Val rested her chin on her hands. “I don’t think you are.”

“But I _did it._ And I knew what I was doing. I knew exactly what the spell would do, how it would kill him… everything. And I still did it.”

“I’m sure you didn’t have a choice. You’re not a bad person, Hailey.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I like to think I’m a good judge of character. Eventually. It took seeing Sam worry about you in the hallway for things to click with him, but I get him now. At least, I know he’s not evil. Evil people don’t worry about others. They don’t have _guilt._ You’re feeling guilty right now.”

“I wish I could stop feeling it.” Hailey sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could pick and choose what I feel and what I don’t.”

“What feelings would you get rid of?”

“Guilt. Fear. Anxiety. Panic.”

Val scoffed. “What do _you_ have to panic over? You’re a pretty, straight, powerful white woman. Other than the fact that you’re _literally_ a murderer, you’re perfect.” She cracked a smile when Hailey rolled her eyes.

“I’m not perfect.”

“Bet.”

“I’m reserved around basically everyone, and I didn’t used to be. In high school, I was top of my class, captain of the academic team, honestly had a lot of friends….”

“What changed?”

“Casey.” Val frowned. Hailey continued, “We started dating, and suddenly, everybody hated me. Nobody wanted to be my friend. The only person who would put up with me was him.”

“I doubt you were so disliked. Are you sure that wasn’t a lie he made you believe?”

“I know it was. He didn’t like that I gave my attention to others, so he told me they talked about me behind my back. Everything he told me was a ruse to lure me in to false security and trap me so I couldn’t leave.” She shook her head in disbelief. “My whole life in Los Angeles has been about him, centered around him, dictated by _him._ Even now, when I’m certain he’s dead, I’m still second guessing _everything._ I wish I could just forget all about him.”

Hailey sat up suddenly. She stormed around the couch and toward the window. Val took a deep breath and forced herself to follow. 

“What’re you doing?” Val asked. She watched Hailey sway on her tiptoes as she reached for a spell book. Val caught her waist and grabbed the book for her.

Hailey mumbled a thanks and carried the book back to the couch. “There’s a spell in here,” she announced, “that wipes memories. Casey used to use it all the time.”

Val frowned. “Wait Hailey, you can’t pick and choose with memory spells. If you erase your memory of him, you erase everything that happened along with him.”

Hailey ignored her. She opened to the Table of Contents, then she flipped halfway through the book. There it was, page 465. The Memory Eraser. _Touch your fingers to your temple. Focus on the memories you want to destroy while repeating these words:…_

Val sat on the ground next to her. She grabbed Hailey’s wrist gently.

“I’m not letting you make this kind of decision while you’re under the influence,” she declared.

“I’m sober,” Hailey muttered. Val scoffed. “I don’t want him in my head.”

“There are better ways.”

“I’m sure about this.”

Val’s eyes dropped to the ruby around Hailey’s neck. She raised an eyebrow. Carefully, she unclasped the necklace and dropped it into her hand. She sat back to watch the magic leave Hailey’s body with slumped shoulders and a heavy sigh.

“Self-confidence spell?” Val guessed.

“I was nervous about going out tonight.”

“Why?”

Hailey huffed. “I’m nervous about being with anyone I don’t know. But I’m nervous about being with people I _do_ know too, sometimes. I don’t ever show it, though. I’m High Priestess. I can’t.”

Val nodded slowly. “I think we need to call it a night. We can talk about this in the morning.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your last night in LA,” Hailey muttered.

“You didn’t.” Val urged Hailey to lay down while reaching for the blanket behind her. “I wanted to get to know you, and now I feel like I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Hailey snuggled into her pillow. Her eyes fell shut immediately. “Don’t… tell anyone,” deep breath, “about this. Okay?”

Val sighed. She laid back down on the loveseat and hugged the pillow against her face.

“I won’t. Goodnight, Hailey.”

Hailey mumbled a response.

They fell asleep in minutes, a much needed rest for the both of them. The next morning, Val would wake hungover, but ready to go home. Hailey wouldn’t remember much of the night before, and Val wouldn’t bring it up. That Night would remain a secret amongst only their drunk selves.

Val would bid her goodbyes with a promise to catch up soon, and then she’d be off, eager to get home, sink back into her familiar routine, and get things back on track. She missed the predictability of her life. While surprises were interesting, she revelled in order.

Unfortunately for her, when she arrived in her coven the following day, she would be thrown the most heart-wrenching curveball.

An attack among the small family she swore to protect.

A murder.

With only one suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like Trouble by Valerie Broussard is the perfect song for this power duo


	10. another one bites the dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Colby, and Corey leave for Salem; Marcus faces another failed attempt; Val calls Hailey for help with a tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my updating schedule really just tanked huh. it only took one week :'( i'm sorryyy. i woke up today & thought it was friday lolol it's sunday hOW

When Marcus first began exploring the idea of veil hopping, the intent wasn’t to collect souls for his drug. It wasn’t even to look for his father. Not in the beginning. He really just wanted to see if it was _possible._ The first time he had the idea, his father was alive.

_“Mirrors are portals,” John Harper explained one day. He gestured to the twin mirrors facing each other at each end of the room. He didn’t arrange them like that; the interior was set when they moved in, long before Marcus was born. He never wanted to move them._

_“Portals to what?” Marcus asked. He peered into one mirror curiously._

_“To the veil. The spirit world. It serves as a doorway for entities to come and go as they please.”_

_“So it’s a way of transportation? For ghosts?”_

_John Harper chuckled. “Sure, if you’d like to look at it like that.”_

_Marcus stared at his reflection with wide eyes. Ideas and theories immediately poured out of his mouth before he could really think them through. Some were crazy. Others were interesting. His father humored every question. By the end of the lesson, Marcus swore he was onto something._

_“At the end of the day, we won’t ever know what lies behind the portal,” John Harper concluded after Marcus exhausted his inquiries. “It will remain a mystery until it is our time to either stay or go, just like death itself.”_

Marcus might’ve accepted that if his father hadn’t died a year later. Maybe if he hadn’t heard John Harper talking to someone or some _thing_ in the basement just before he died. Maybe if he could’ve just listened in clearly and finally got some answers, he wouldn’t push so hard eight years later to scour a land he didn’t belong in.

But he _did_ hear his father pleading in the basement one night with a being that simply couldn’t have been real, _“Please, I’m sorry, pl—… I know your—… I command—”_ His mother tried to hide it from him, tried to hide _everything_ from him. Looking back, Marcus could recognize all of the signs. Constantly looking over his shoulder, speaking to people that weren’t really there, always carrying around a vile of salt, sage, and his favorite crystals, headaches, and more.

John Harper had the Sight. He was possibly pleading with whoever gave it to him to take it back, and things went wrong. A few days later, he was found dead. Cause: heartattack. Natural. Nobody asked any questions.

His mother moved them across the country a few months later. She never talked about it again.

So really, she held a bit of blame for all of this too. Maybe if she’d just talked to Marcus, shared her thoughts and feelings about everything, maybe Marcus wouldn’t have fought so hard to find out what actually happened. Maybe he would be a different person now, actually going to school instead of spending every minute of every day trying to dive into the veil and track his father down, dead or alive.

But none of that happened. He became who he was now: Marcus Pierce, exiled witch, forced seer (by his own hand, but still), shunned outcast. And maybe he knew now what happened to his father, but there were still _questions._ There were still gaps in the story and things he always wanted to say. When he was young, he tried to accept his father’s death and move on.

But as he grew and uncovered more information, he realized moving on wasn’t so easy. Not when tracking John Harper down was possible.

He never told Tyler about his ulterior motive. Tyler was suspicious too, constantly, but he didn’t ask, and that made him a good friend. Marcus figured he’d share his secret, eventually. Maybe when he actually succeeded.

But _how_ was he supposed to succeed without a good partner to veil hop with? Nobody seemed to fit the bill. None could be trusted.

Taylor gave him short lived-hope. For a week or so, Marcus actually believed Taylor would help him find his dad. After all, Taylor was the first to make it back alive. That had to mean something, right?

But then…

_“What’re you doing?!”_

_“What’s it look like? I’m leaving your ass here!”_

Marcus had to give him props for having the balls to try. Taylor attempted to leave him in the veil once they reached a portal leading to a familiar place. Marcus was too distracted by what once was to realize his partner floating away behind him. If he could’ve just drifted into the darkness of the veil, Taylor could’ve been free.

Free of Marcus anyway. He would’ve never navigated his way back to his time and place. The veil was a dangerous, confusing place.

Marcus knew how to maneuver, though. Losing partner after partner to the veil forced him to find his way back from plenty of unfamiliar territories. He caught up to Taylor easily.

A darkness took over when he finally reached Taylor. Later, Marcus would write it off as being around dark, unseen energy in the veil—demons still lurked, after all. They were one of the many dangers. He certainly wouldn’t think about how angry he actually was when Taylor left. They’d been _so painfully close_ to his father; Marcus almost had a _glimpse_ of him, and Taylor destroyed it by running.

So Marcus destroyed Taylor’s chance of escape. It was only _fair,_ right?

And when he returned to the land of the living, he finished the job with a cut across Taylor’s neck. Tyler happily drained him dry.

“What happened in there?” Tyler asked. He licked the blood off his teeth and wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

Marcus blinked and sighed. “Same as the others: he got off track.”

“Damn. Why does that happen every time? Is that really such an easy thing to do?”

“Almost anything is easy to do in the veil.” Marcus stared down his nose at Taylor. “Except make a clean escape.”

••••••••••

Colby ducked into his apartment quickly with a book hugged to his chest and his eyes scrutinizing the hallway. He slipped inside and shut his door immediately after. He sighed with relief in the safety of his home.

He locked his door and headed for the couch. He opened the book in his hands and flipped through the pages. Somewhere behind him, he vaguely heard Sam talking to someone.

“Sam?” he called. He stopped at the couch and turned to look around.

“Oh shit, you scared me,” Sam said. He leaned over the balcony rail and shook his head. “I’m filming a 3 AM video.”

Colby stood a little straighter. “Right now?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a challenge.” Sam turned his camera off and came down the stairs. “Just a sit-down video _about_ the challenges. I’m not doing any.” He smirked and kissed Colby’s cheek. “Yet.”

“We still have, like, six months left on our lease.” Colby rolled his eyes. He wrapped his arm around Sam and hugged him closer. “Don’t you dare haunt it before then.”

Sam sighed dramatically. “I’ll try.” He reached for the book. “Is this it?”

“Mmhm. Marcus Pierce’s Book of Light, in the flesh.”

“Whoa.” Sam leaned against the couch and flipped through the pages. “Did you have any trouble getting it out of there?”

“Nah. No one paid attention.”

“Getting it back’s gonna suck.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Sam chuckled. He scanned over the pages quickly, only glimpsing at a few words before he moved onto the next. Most were filled with spells and potions. He hummed.

“What?”

Sam pointed at a divider page decorated with purple, gold, and green designs. “There’s a section for voodoo in here.”

Colby frowned. “I think that’s a class offered at the church.”

“Really? Cool.”

He’d never actually heard of voodoo being taught, but there was definitely a flier for it pinned to the bulletin board by the door. He remembered Alley looking at it the day of the ritual.

“We have to be extra careful with our stuff on this trip,” Sam said. “Now we have _two_ Book of Shadows to worry about.”

“It’ll be fine.” Colby kissed Sam’s hair. “I’m really only worried about getting Margaret’s back where it belongs.”

Sam nodded. He paused at the last section of the book: the Sight chapter. He read the handwritten note quickly before continuing to the next page. It was the potion Colby made for the temporary Sight.

“Corey said he’d go,” Sam said. “Jake’s not feeling up to it though.”

Colby sighed. “Man, I was hoping the whole group could go.”

“I know.”

The next page was a What to Expect entry for the first month of being a seer. Sam skipped over it.

“But it’s probably for the best,” Colby continued. “Jake shouldn’t be around supernatural stuff for a while, and I’ll bet Salem is a hotspot for it.”

“Yeah, about that…” Sam closed the book and turned to Colby, “Are you sure this place is safe for you?”

“For me?”

“Yeah. Hailey told us about witch hunters, and I feel like Salem is crawling with them. I mean, dozens of witches were _burned_ there once.”

“They weren’t witches. They were just people—it was hysteria and false accusations.”

“I know, but,” Sam sighed, “the _idea_ is still there.”

Colby poked his tongue into his cheek. “There _are_ hunters there. She told me about them, _but—”_

“Colby.”

 _“But_ they usually keep to themselves. The witches do too. There’s like an unspoken rule up there. We’ll be fine.”

Sam shifted his weight. “If you say so.” He moved to the bar to finish looking through the book. Colby passed him to open the fridge.

“Anything interesting in there?” he asked. He grabbed a can of White Claw and turned back to Sam.

“There’s a chapter about summoner’s magic.”

“Yeah?” Colby leaned on the counter across from Sam and tried reading the text upside down. Sam turned the book toward him. “Is that something you want to try?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I kind of… _want_ to. I want to try magic in general, but I _don’t_ want to at the same time.”

“Even if I teach you?”

Sam snickered. “Oh, I remember your teaching experience. You kept throwing water at Jake.”

“I was trying to _help_ him.” Sam raised an eyebrow. Colby added with a small laugh, “Yeah, it was also funny as hell. I wouldn’t do that to you though.”

Sam cupped Colby’s cheek and smiled. “You better not.”

Colby kissed his palm. “So, how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. I might give it a shot if you and Hailey are there.”

“Wow, you really don’t trust me.”

Sam chuckled. “I _do,_ but neither of us have experience with summoner’s magic.”

“Maybe Margaret knows something.”

“Maybe.”

“Wanna go to Starbucks with me?”

Sam frowned. “Starbucks?”

Colby pursed his lips. “This week’s video is gonna be: Trying Starbucks for the First Time.”

Sam grinned. “You’re running out of ideas, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Are you buying?”

"Yeah?”

Sam intertwined their fingers and grinned. "Then let’s go.”

“Oh I see.” Colby let Sam drag him toward the door. Sam leaned against the wall to slip his shoes on. “You only want me for my money and my car.” Colby crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you want to take my car?”

“… No. Mine’s cooler.”

Sam scoffed, ready to argue.

Colby walked off to grab his camera. Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Shut up!”

Sam laughed.

•••••

On Friday, one of Hailey’s interviews with a potential council member was interrupted by a call from Val. She apologized to Ruth, Nikki, and the woman sitting across from them as she quickly left the room. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she said. She pulled the door shut behind her. In her ear, Val spoke softly. She explained what happened the previous day: she’d received a call on her way home from her best friend Jo that Jo Gambit hadn’t heard from her husband for two days. They were assuming the worst.

“Jo Gambit put out a missing person’s report, but I have a really, really bad feeling that he won’t be found. Not alive, at least,” Val said. “Shit Hailey, what do I _do?_ I swore to protect them, and I failed at exactly that.” She groaned. “Everyone’s scared, and not just her family. They’re afraid Marcus is going to come after us next. I don’t think he will; we don’t have anything else he wants.”

“Did you tell your people that?”

“I don’t know how! They’re looking to me for security and inspiration and I—I’m not good at the leadership part of this position.”

Hailey smiled sympathetically. “That’s okay. You just do what you can, and your coven will understand. They’ll trust you.”

“But what if they don’t? I can’t expect them to trust me just because I'm a High Priestess. You know how much people love to question things, especially in this city.”

Hailey huffed; did she ever. If the situations were flipped, she knew not everyone in her own coven would trust her to take care of things. Mainly Roger and Thomas and their circle of sexist assholes.

“Would you like some help?” Hailey offered. “I can come visit for a day or two.”

“Would you?” Val said hopefully. “That would be great. Jo is helping me the best she can, but I could really use someone who’s in the same position.”

Hailey smiled. “I’ll leave soon. Stay strong until I get there, Val. You’ve got this.”

Val sighed deeply. “Thank you, Hailey.”

When she hung up, she read through the Snapchat messages the boys sent in their group chat. They were blowing up her phone while she was on the call and in the interviews. Each message came from everyone except for Sam, who was driving a rental car in Salem. He, Colby, and Corey took off on a weekend getaway to visit one of Colby’s friends. They were mostly talking about random things like weird people on the airplane or how close Salem actually was to Boston (“i was expecting like a two hour drive lol.”).

Sam joined the conversation eventually with a picture of an old house. He captioned it: **“Might get arrested again. Will keep you posted”**

**Jake, in the chat: fuck now i wish i went**

**Hailey: Well you’re welcome to come with me, if you’d like. I’m leaving for San Diego soon.**

**Reggie: ohhh another mission sam & colby aren’t going on? :P**

**Hailey: The first wasn’t a mission, but sure.**

**Jake: it ended like a mission. we almost died lol**

**Corey: can’t believe ‘we almost died lol’ is literally our lives now**

**Hailey: Do you guys want to come with me or not?**

**Jake: hell yeah #TeamJaileggie**

**Colby: jaileggie**

**Sam: You guys have fun with that lol**

**Corey: yeah we’ll just be up here, getting arrested**

**Reggie: just stick with colby. he’s good at making friends in jail**

**Hailey: Guys we’re leaving in an hour.**

**Jake: woo**

Hailey silenced her phone and stuck it in her pocket. With a deep breath, she stepped back into the room to continue the interview. Nikki only smiled, but Ruth watched Hailey with an unreadable expression.

“Everything okay?” she asked quietly. Her eyes narrowed. 

Hailey stared back. “Yes.” She smiled, despite her heart sinking into her chest. “Of course.” She shouldn’t be so on guard with Ruth, but… there was something there. Something off.

She turned her attention to the council hopeful. “Sorry about that, let’s continue.”

Ruth finally tore her gaze away after a long five seconds. 

Fifteen minutes later, Hailey sat in her car. The whole drive back to her building, she couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the church.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how Ruth stared at her with such a _chilling_ gaze.


	11. salem || xplr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Colby, and Corey explore an abandoned building on their way to Salem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep deleting and rewriting this message because I don't want to seem like I'm a big shot with a platform—I know I'm not—but the idea of updating this book and then leaving for the next week without addressing what's happening right now in the US also feels wrong. What's happening around my country this week, right now, probably as you're reading this, is a consequence of police abusing their power as well as pure racism, and there's no other way to define it. (And cause I'm a sensitive bitch, just typing out that sentence made me tear up. I hate this so much). 
> 
> If you're an American citizen and you're as mad as I am: GOOD! You should be!! If you're not angry, you're NOT paying attention. As scary and out of hand as they seem, I want to join these protests. I feel so helpless where I am, in a sleepy town in Kentucky—especially because my state had its own wrongful death of a black woman and, as far as I know, the officers involved have received NO punishment! I admire the bravery the protestors have to storm the streets and speak their minds; I always have. If you want to protest, go for it! It's your right.
> 
> But LISTEN !!!: If you're going to protest please, please, PLEASE be aware of what's happening around you!!! BE CAREFUL!!! These protests could be peaceful, or they could end in flames. People are angry, cops are on edge, things are dangerous. DON'T go alone. Watch each others' backs. Live to fight another day.
> 
> I'm not black. I'm a white American woman who grew up in a mainly white community—I honestly didn't see a lot of diversity until my family took a trip up north to a big city when I was a kid—and I'm angry. I am so, so FURIOUS that this is still happening when it shouldn't be. There's no reason. Also, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that some people of my race, for whatever reason, still believe skin color determines a person's superiority.
> 
> Stay educated—read up on what's happening, don't just trust social media to give you all of the facts. Don't watch the George Floyd video if you can't stomach abuse, please. It's sickening. You don't have to watch it to be a part of the conversation. 
> 
> Just, stay safe. Please. Take care of yourself, not only during these scary times but also in the midst of this pandemic that the US seems to have forgotten about. And as always, thank you for reading this chapter. I hope that, maybe, this story is providing a bit of a distraction from what's going on in the world. I'll see you guys at the next update. :)

The trip to Margaret’s house from Boston only stretched for forty-five minutes, hardly any time to get a nap in. Corey still tried. He curled up against the door with his backpack squished between his head and the window. He responded to a few texts in their group chat before silencing his phone.

Sam fumbled with the radio blindy as he kept his eyes on the road. The car didn’t come with an aux, much to their disappointment, so they had to settle for local music.

Colby swatted his hand away. “Focus on the road.”

“Fine, but put on something good.”

Their conversation thinned into comfortable silence as they ventured into smaller towns. Colby filmed a bit of the drive, but for the most part, the camera stayed at his feet.

As they left one city and entered the next, Sam began to conclude that everything looks similar in Massachusetts. Stoneham and Wakefield had dozens of streets filled with newer houses surrounding downtown, but each Main Street was flanked by tall brick buildings painted different colors—mainly gray and red—with shop signs above the doors for businesses that had to have been there for decades. Maybe even centuries.

At a stop light, Sam searched for places to explore. They were only staying for a few days, he knew, but he couldn’t help being curious. What if there was an abandoned house nearby from the 1600s? Or remains of a once booming pilgrim settlement that deserted long ago? In an area as historic as Massachusetts, there had to be _something_ cool to find.

He found it as soon as the light turned green. “Colby,” he said.

“Hm?” Colby hummed. He’d been alternating views between the drive and his phone. He, Jake, and Reggie were texting in the _Occult_ group chat about nothing and everything. Having both Webber brothers in the same group was like… galaxy brain. He looked over as Sam offered his phone.

“Detour?” Sam asked with a hopeful grin. “At least to check it out?”

Colby scrolled through the article. It was a large, square brick building with two stories and towering pillars lining the front porch. Over the years, nature reclaimed it as her own. Vines and moss stretched across the sides of the building and dangled over the entrance like a canopy. A paved driveway lay in front of it, but the concrete was cracked and broken apart.

“I didn’t get a chance to see what it was,” Sam added. “Only that it’s between Wakefield and Peabody.”

Colby nodded. “It’s in Lynnfield. It was built around the late 1600s as a place for worship, but when the Salem Witch Trials started, it became a safe haven for the witches seeking asylum. Holy shit, that’s cool.”

“Whoa.” Sam looked at him. “We’re going, right?”

“Yeah, we’ll check it out.” Colby was one step ahead of him with the new address in Sam’s GPS. “Take this next exit.”

••••••••••

They parked at the edge of a forest next to a white pickup truck. Corey sluggishly climbed out of the car and met his friends at the start of a trail leading into an empty canopy of trees and bushes.

“What’re we doing?” he asked. He followed Sam down the trail.

“Exploring!” Sam cheered. He pulled the other backpack strap over his shoulder. Inside were water bottles and a few other supplies. “We found a cool place on the way.”

“Is this illegal?”

“It’s somewhere off of a public trail, so,” Colby shrugged, “probably not.”

“But it’s haunted, isn’t it?”

Sam grinned. “Who knows? Maybe.”

Corey groaned. “When I found out about your Sight, I thought that would mean we wouldn’t do any haunted places anymore. I still don’t get it, shouldn’t this stuff _scare_ you Sam?”

“No way. I’m not scared of _anything.”_

“Yeah, okay. … There’s a spider on your—”

“Ah!” Sam shouted. He nervously brushed at his arms and smacked his shoulders. “What? Where?” On either side of him, Corey and Colby snickered and laughed.

“You’re scared of _one_ thing,” Corey teased.

Sam huffed. “Oh, ha ha.” He shook his head and turned, so they wouldn’t see him biting back a smile. He took the lead with his fingers still intertwined with Colby’s. He ignored the jokes behind him.

They walked for fifteen minutes before the main trail veered to the left. To the right lay a gravel path, just like the directions warned. Another five minutes and two turns later, the wooden building came into view. It stood as tall as some trees framing the property. The gravel shifted into broken pavement that curved around a plot of mulch spotted with weeds and dead bushes.

“Oh, this is sick,” Corey said. As they neared the front porch, he tipped his chin back to gaze at the towering pillars in awe. They were mere ants next to the enormous structure.

“Looks mostly intact too,” Sam observed. He stepped onto the porch carefully, testing the planks with his weight before moving forward. “Be careful of the wood, though.”

There were doors missing from a tall square entrance ahead of him. Past them, he could see a staircase against one wall and an old, ratty rug leading from the front directly to the back. Open doorways flanked the narrow hall. His stomach swelled with excitement as he imagined what the interior could hold.

They explored the main floor first. To the left of the entrance was a commons area with dusty couches and an oak coffee table surrounding a grand stone fireplace. The walls were covered in sigils and symbols that Sam couldn’t begin to even understand. Unlike other places they visited, graffiti didn’t invade the property. It didn’t even make an appearance. The whole building seemed preserved in time, like a well kept secret.

Glass shattered behind Sam and Corey just as they crossed the room. They spun toward the noise with their faces frozen in fear. A few feet away, Colby stood next to a table. There was a broken vase at his feet, one side shattered to pieces. Something else laid in the rubble, but nobody noticed it. With his shoulders raised to his ears and a sheepish smile on his face, he whispered loudly, “Sorry….”

Corey pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled. “Dude, fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Colby laughed. He stepped over the broken glass and joined his friends near the back of the room.

“How did you manage that?” Sam asked. He gestured to the table the vase once sat on.

“I don’t know, I bumped into it!”

“Well if there are other people around, they’ve surely heard us now,” Corey said.

“I’m _sorry,”_ Colby whined.

Sam smiled softly. He reached for Colby when he neared and cupped his cheek. “It’s okay. We just need to be more careful.”

“What’re the chances there was some kind of ancient, magical curse in that vase?” Corey asked. “Or an evil ghost imprisoned inside, and you just freed it?!”

Colby waved his hand. “It’s not that deep, brother. Pretty sure it was just a vase.”

“Sorry, this place is just giving me weird vibes. Are there any ghosts around Sam?”

Sam hummed. He searched the room half heartedly, noting a few spirits wandering the property but minding their own business. He shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“What?”

“Can’t psychics, like, detect energy or something? You tell us if there is anybody around.”

Corey frowned. “I don’t know how.”

“Focus on the room you’re in,” Colby said. “Focus on us and you and how it feels here. It’s weirdly cool for summertime, right?” He looked back at Sam, who nodded. “Close your eyes, if it helps. Just focus on your surroundings.”

Corey reluctantly tore his gaze from his friends. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Sam and Colby shared a look.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Then Sam suggested, “Maybe calling out to them would work? Ask them to make themselves known to you?”

“So there _are_ people here,” Corey said.

“I didn’t say that.” Sam smiled innocently when Colby looked at him.

Corey took another long inhale. “If there is someone in here with us right now, can you please make yourself known?”

Silence. Sam watched a woman with a pixie cut in the far corner of the room. She stared back.

“We don’t mean any harm,” Corey continued. “We just want to know if you’re here.”

Sam offered his hand. “You can use my energy if you need a boost revealing yourself.” He nodded ever so slightly at the woman. “Or theirs, but I’d rather you use me.”

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“Sam,” Corey whispered. His eyes were open and wide.

"An abandoned building _and_ ghosts?" Colby joked as he eyed the room nervously. "Jackpot."

The woman moved across the room gracefully. She reached for Sam, and he refrained from reacting to her bruised knuckles and damaged skin. Deep slashes covered her arms and neck, blade wounds that never healed. Or maybe they were never treated. Maybe that was how she died, bleeding out with no one to help. He swallowed thickly.

When she first touched his hand, he flinched and jerked his hand away. She froze—everyone froze.

“Sorry,” he breathed. He shook his head and outstretched his hand again. “I, aha, I don’t usually let ghosts touch me.”

“Cold,” she said with a nod. Her voice was rough and laced with static.

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned into a half smile. “Yeah.”

She wrapped her fingers around his hand tentatively; her gaze never left his face.

“What’s happening?” Corey whispered to Colby.

“There’s a woman here,” Sam explained. “She has short hair and cuts across her body.” He squeezed her hand, or at least tried, and a jolt of ice shot through his arm. He shuddered.

Colby grabbed his other hand. “You okay?” He was so _warm_ —he evened out the shrill chill turning Sam’s bones to ice. Sam shifted closer, embracing as much of Colby’s body heat as he could.

“Now that you’re here—as cheesy as that sounds.” He laughed.

Corey turned to the empty space in front of Sam. “I can feel someone here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s like… like another presence is right here, I _know_ it. I can’t believe I didn’t notice her before, it’s so obvious now.”

Sam nodded slowly. His vision blurred for a second. He leaned into Colby, who muttered quiet concerns in his ear.

A breeze blew through the house, soft and warm.

“She’s not a bad spirit, is she?” Colby said. “I know this sounds crazy, but Ruth told me to listen to the wind once. It steers us away from danger, but this… this doesn’t feel like danger. It feels….”

“Comforting,” Corey finished. He and Colby nodded in agreement.

“I don’t get it,” Sam said, “this was supposed to be a safe place for witches. What happened?” He released Colby’s hand to press his fingers to his temple. His head throbbed, and that made his heart skip a beat.

“Weak,” she said and let go of his hand. The breeze thinned until silence fell over the house once more. She nodded to Colby. “Beware of hazel.” She backed away slowly, but her body didn’t go with her. Her figure melted away with each step, dissolving into the air until there was nothing left but a warm buzz in their stomachs.

Sam leaned against the wall. He winced at the throbbing in his head. “My head hurts,” he whined.

Colby stood in front of him, one hand on Sam’s shoulder and the other gripping his hip. “Hey it’s okay, love. Do you want to step out and get some fresh air?” Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah? Okay, let’s go. Give me your bag.” He helped slide the backpack off of Sam’s shoulders. He kept a hold around Sam while shrugging the bag onto his back.

Corey helped on Sam’s other side. He threw an arm around his shoulders while Colby had his waist. They moved quickly and carefully. Sam relied on them to guide him while he weakly searched the building for other spirits. It was hard with the room spinning. He blinked once then squeezed his eyes shut.

“Here,” Colby muttered. They stopped on the porch next to one of the pillars. Corey helped Sam to the ground while Colby knelt in front of him. He searched through the bag and handed out water bottles. 

Corey sat next to Sam. He thanked Colby for the water and twisted it open. “What happened back there?” he asked.

Sam took a long drink of his water before answering. “She just used a lot of my energy. I guess ghosts need more than I realized to really interact with the living.”

Colby opened a bottle of headache medicine. He dumped a few pills into his hand and offered them to Sam.

Sam glanced at him before hesitantly taking the pills. He immediately dumped them into his mouth and chased it with water. It would be weird if he didn’t, right? It would be strange if he just stared at the medicine, contemplating whether they would actually help this time. Last time they didn’t.

“I still wanna check out the rest of the house,” he said after they’d relapsed into silence.

Colby smiled. “Sure, babe. Just tell us when you’re ready to go back in.”

“Now that I noticed her,” Corey began thoughtfully, “this house feels different. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but it doesn’t feel like a regular abandoned place. It’s like I’m expecting _life_ to be in there still.”

“We should really find a psychic for you to talk to,” Colby laughed. “Cause we can guess all we want to, but we really don’t know anything about psychic abilities. Margaret probably knows someone, though.”

“I bet Salem is crawling with supernatural people,” Sam said.

“What was it like when she touched you, Sam?” Corey asked. “Was it like when the…” He glanced around and curved his shoulders in suddenly, “when the Shadowman got you?” He lowered his voice to whisper the last part. Sam smiled sympathetically.

“No, it was nothing like that.” Sam crossed his legs and tapped absently against the water bottle in front of him. “The first time with the Shadowman was more in my head, I told you about that. He got my arm,” he pointed to his bicep, “but he just grazed me. Still, he made it burn like he’d actually scratched me. It hurt with the sting of being scratched, but nothing was there. He just made me think there was. It’s a scare tactic; they love those.

“Regular ghosts just feel cold. They don’t usually have enough energy to actually leave the feeling of touching someone. If you’re ever somewhere haunted and you feel something cold next to you, that’s a spirit trying to reach out. But they can’t, they’re not strong enough, so the best they can do is a chilly breeze.”

Corey laughed nervously as he rubbed his hands over his arms. “Fuck, I’m getting chills now.”

“How could she touch you then?” Colby asked.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe her being a witch in her lifetime helped. Maybe she still held some power in the afterlife. She spoke only a few words at a time, so maybe she was focusing all of her energy on connecting with me.”

“I don’t like when they touch you.”

Sam smiled halfheartedly. “Neither do I.”

“Did she tell you anything?” Corey asked. “Like what happened to her or who she was?”

“No… I didn’t really get much out of her. Sometimes, I feel like ghosts just want to be seen more than anything. I know they’re still here because they have something keeping them here, but what if they get stuck here for so long that they just forget how to communicate?” Sam glanced from Corey to Colby. “Or… maybe she would’ve stayed longer if I hadn’t weakened so quickly. Maybe if I had held out a little longer, we could’ve learned more about her.”

Colby grabbed Sam’s hand in his own and squeezed. “Don’t talk like that. You did the best you could with what was going on. She made herself known to all of us with that wind— _we saw her_ thanks to you.”

“Yeah, and I think you helped me tap into my psychic abilities,” Corey added. “At least for a minute. I’ve never been able to physically feel something that wasn’t there before.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “You did good, Sam.”

“Aw stop, you’re making me blush,” Sam laughed. He met Colby’s warm gaze—with his crinkled eyes and wide smile—and his heart fluttered tenfold. He did all of that with his demonic Sight, evil and reckless as it may be in the eyes of witches. He gave somebody a chance to be seen again. He helped Corey connect with his supernatural abilities. He really _did that._

Sam ducked his head and stared across the yard. He couldn’t stop smiling.

They hung out for another five minutes, finishing their water and talking about possible plans for the weekend. When their bottles were empty, they packed them into the backpack.

“Are we ready to go back in?” Colby asked. He looked at Corey first, then his gaze stayed on Sam.

Corey nodded. Sam said, “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

“Cool,” Colby held the backpack toward him, “then you can take this back.”

“Wha—Nooo, you carry it. I just almost passed out.”

“You did _not_ almost pass out.”

“I _could have.”_

Corey chuckled and rolled his eyes. He headed into the building on his own.

Colby scoffed. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Sam grinned. He pecked Colby’s cheek and whispered, “Damn right I am.” 

Colby made a noise of protest when Sam turned to head back into the building. He caught Sam’s wrist and yanked him back into his arms. He kissed his hair, then his temple. When Sam’s cheeks flushed, Colby kissed them as well. He kissed his nose, his mouth—Sam chased him for another kiss on the mouth. Colby grinned; they were both giggling.

“Fine, I—” Sam sighed as Colby dipped his head to pepper kisses down his neck. He shivered when Colby’s fingers brushed across his skin. God, he loved it. He loved it and he loved _him,_ so much.

“I’ll carry the bag,” he breathed. He pulled away just enough to meet Colby’s eye.

Colby hummed. “No way.” He grabbed the backpack off the ground and hugged it to his chest. “It’s _my_ bag now.” He turned and ran into the building, bolting up the stairs and laughing like he’d just outbested Sam in a race. His voice echoed in the emptiness and mixed with the chirping birds outside.

Sam snickered. He followed Colby quickly, eager to check out the rest of the house. As he passed, he glanced at the broken vase next to the stairs. From above, he could see it: something yellow in a mess of brown. 

He didn’t stop to check it out; it was probably nothing anyway.

••••••••••

They spent the next half an hour exploring every inch of the place. Like the first floor, everything remained mostly intact and preserved. Sigils littered the walls in every room; Sam tried asking a few times if Colby knew anything, but he didn’t. The symbols were just as mysterious as the building itself. 

There were also people lingering around, quiet and always watching. Corey commented on unsettling feelings whenever they’d enter a new room. Sam wondered if those were senses Corey already had or he was developing. Either way, Sam could tell he was evolving in his abilities. If not stronger, at least more comfortable and open to the supernatural. They both were, and that felt like a win.

When they came back downstairs, Colby stopped to investigate the vase. He first glanced over briefly, chuckling to himself as Corey made a joke behind him, and noticed a mess of yellow petals crushed beneath clay.

“Were those flowers always there?” he asked, pointing to the vase. Sam stopped a few feet away. He raised an eyebrow.

“I saw them when I went upstairs, but they’re just flowers.”

“Yeah, but there aren’t flowers anywhere else in the building,” Corey said.

“Well, it was a vase,” Sam said, kneeling next to the mess. “Vases hold flowers usually. I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“What kind of flower is that?” Corey asked.

“I don’t know?”

“Oh, there are a ton of yellow flowers in the world,” Colby laughed. He tipped his phone toward Sam to show the Google results.

“Yeah, no shit.” Sam snickered.

“This one sounds promising: Witch hazel.”

Sam stilled. “Witch _hazel?”_

“Yeah?”

 _“Beware of hazel,”_ the woman from earlier said _while looking at Colby._

Colby knelt next to him. He reached for the flower a few inches away. Sam immediately caught his wrist.

“What?” Colby asked. 

Sam frowned as he looked around the commons area. He suddenly wondered about everything: the sigils, the plants, the witch who had _clearly_ been attacked… even the building itself. Maybe it was supposed to be a safe haven for witches seeking asylum at one point, but… who’s to say it stayed that way? Who’s to say it _ever_ actually accomplished its goal?

“We should leave,” he said. “We need to leave. I don’t like it here.” He started toward the front door.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Colby called. He shared a bewildered look with Corey, who stood a few feet away with color drained from his face. “Corey, is something here?”

“I don’t know! I don’t _think_ so, but…” Corey followed Colby out the front door, “but why is he freaking out suddenly?”

Sam turned slowly in the clearing outside. He scanned the trees, searching for anything human shaped. There were a few people here and there, but some were transparent, and Colby and Corey didn’t react to them anyways. 

“Sam, this better not be a prank,” Corey said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I swear, if you’re just trying to scare us….”

“I’m not, but we should get out of here.”

A twig snapped nearby. It echoed.

Corey spun around. “What was that?!”

Chills ran down their spines.

“Guys, seriously.” Sam nodded toward the path. “Now.”

They hurried through the forest, blood pounding in their ears and chests numb from how hard their hearts beat with fear. The danger didn’t seem to follow them. Sam kept looking back, waiting for a band of hunters to burst onto the path and chase them down, but it never happened. 

By the time they reached their car, they were still as alone in the forest as they were when they first entered.

Colby got into the driver’s seat. As soon as Sam’s door fell shut, he peeled out of the parking spot, kicking gravel into the trees as he took off.

“What the fuck just happened?” Corey yelled. He leaned forward and smacked Sam’s shoulder. “It’s like you flipped a switch or something! What the hell?”

Sam twisted in his seat to look at them. “That ghost girl told us—told _you_ —” He pointed at Colby— “to beware of hazel. That had to have been the witch hazel!”

“Maybe it was,” Colby said, “but what does that _mean?”_

“We knew Salem would be crawling with hunters. Maybe witch hazel is dangerous to witches! Maybe they planted it around the building so if a witch touches it, they’ll be weakened or killed or something. And then whoever was out there could’ve been _actual hunters_ coming back to see if they caught anyone.”

“Or they could’ve been people exploring like us,” Corey reasoned.

Sam sighed. He settled into his seat and pulled out his phone. “I’m sorry I scared you guys, I just didn’t feel safe talking about it there.”

“It’s okay,” Colby said. “I have to admit though, that makes me less confident about being here.”

“Yeah, but your friend has lived here for years, and she’s a witch,” Corey said. “Wouldn’t she move if it was too dangerous?”

“Good point.”

Sam tapped Hailey’s contact and switched the phone to speaker while it rang. She answered on the fourth dial.

“Hey Sam, now isn’t a good time…” she said.

Colby frowned. “Why? What’s up?”

“Oh I’m just helping Val deal with some… issues at her coven. What’s going on?”

“Is witch hazel dangerous?” Sam asked.

“To witches, extremely. It latches onto magic and burns at the touch. It’s commonly used in potions to weaken or remove magic.”

“Holy fuck—I almost _touched_ it,” Colby said. His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. “I came so close, what the hell.”

“I imagine Salem will be hazardous for all of you, but Colby especially: watch out. Be careful.”

“Is there anything Corey and I should watch out for?” Sam said.

Hailey hummed. “You two should be fine unless something happens that suggests you’re Occult. Sam, vervain is a thing. It’s most effective among the possessed and seers. It won’t kill you, but I’ve heard it’s not pleasant.”

“What is it?” Colby said.

“It’s a liquid; I’ve mostly heard of hunting tactics slipping the vervain into drinks at bars and going after whoever reacts to it.”

“Shit,” Corey sighed. “That’s legit.”

“Okay, so,” Sam laughed uneasily and rubbed his neck, “yellow plants and roofied drinks. Got it.”

Commotion in the back made Hailey mutter under her breath. “Guys, I have to go,” she said quickly. “Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too,” Colby said. He shared looks with Sam and Corey. 

Sam tapped his finger against his phone after the call ended. “What do you think’s happening back home?”

“I don’t know, but she’ll tell us when she can.” Colby grabbed Sam’s hand and ran his thumb over his knuckles. He smiled; Sam mirrored him.

They drove in silence until they reached the main road again. Soon, they were back in civilization, twenty minutes from Margaret’s house.

“I wouldn’t mind going on explorations with you guys if they end like that instead of almost getting caught,” Corey said.

Sam laughed. "You’d take the supernatural over cops?”

“… Yeah.”

“Me too, I think,” Colby agreed. “At least we can fight the supernatural. Plus, jail sucked.”

“Yeah, good point. I guess it doesn't matter so long as we're getting chased out. That's the _true_ Sam and Colby experience."

Margaret called Colby, worrying whether they’d gotten lost or into trouble. Colby easily fell into a conversation with her about their quick detour. He reassured they were okay; clearly, the dangers of what almost happened weren’t lost on her. Then she must’ve said something helpful, but Colby’s shoulders relaxed.

“Yeah, that’s what I told Sam,” he said.

Sam leaned against the door and rested his chin in his hand. He watched the small towns of Massachusetts roll past, and he wondered if, maybe, the warm buzz in his stomach that grew as they neared their destination wasn’t such a good thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links won't work here, but this website is a great resource for ways you can help as well as important tips for protesters!!:
> 
> https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co
> 
> Stay safe y'all!!


	12. #TeamJaileggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake, Hailey, and Reggie visit the San Diego Coven, and they encounter a hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH A THURSDAY UPDATE HECCCCK YEAH
> 
> tw//guns? i'm not *entirely* sure that's a trigger, but i don't want to not mention it in case it is, so gun violence ahead. it's mild i promise.
> 
> also i saw a video reggie put on twitter of him and his flight leaving a gas chamber during what i assume is basic training, that's what it looked like, so i made my own assumptions on that video alone. if anyone knows anything more about him being in the military, tell me because 1) i'm genuinely curious and 2) i... really just want to know if it's true lol. he doesn't seem like a military guy buuuttt 🤷♀️ (if you can't see that it's the shrugging emoji)

Hailey’s GPS led them to the end of a gravel road with no source of life in sight. She put the car into park and sat back with a sigh. Next to her, Reggie searched the trees. Behind them, Jake tried using his phone to figure out where they were. No luck, though. According to his maps app, there was nothing around them for miles.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Reggie asked.

“This is the address she sent me,” Hailey said. “She told me it’d be in the forest, but….”

Bushes trembled ahead of them. Hailey sat up straighter. Reggie squinted. Jake pushed forward between the front seats and leaned on the console.

“What if it’s a bear?” Reggie said.

“Are there bears in California?” Jake asked.

Hailey sighed. “State flag, Jake.”

“So, yes?”

_“Yes.”_

“What do we do if a bear attacks the car?” Reggie asked.

“… I’m running it over.”

“Oh? _I_ thought witches were supposed to be _one with nature_ or something,” Jake mocked.

Hailey huffed. “If a bear attacks the car, and I happen to hit it on my way to getting the hell out of here, that’s not _my_ fault.”

The boys snickered.

The rustling stopped, and a bear did not step out of the trees, thankfully. Hailey would honestly be devastated if she had to harm a bear in _any_ situation. Witch or not, she’d always had a soft spot for animals.

Instead, it was Val who slipped past the trees and waved from the edge of the forest. She smiled, though her fake enthusiasm couldn’t reach her eyes. Hailey turned off the car, and they stepped out to meet her.

“I hope it’s okay that I brought some friends,” Hailey said. “I don’t know if you’ve formally met. Val, this is Jake and Reggie.” She gestured to the boys, who waved.

Val smiled. “It’s nice to meet you both, but unfortunately, I can’t let any non-witches into my coven right now. My people are still on edge after the incident.”

“Well, uh… is it safe for us to stay out here?” Reggie asked. He glanced at Jake. “I mean, I don’t want to run into any… bears.”

Val’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are there bears in southern California?”

“Yeah. It’s on the flag,” Jake answered. He nudged Reggie with a grin. Reggie laughed next to him.

Suddenly, leaves rustled and twigs snapped around them. Hailey shifted closer to Jake. A woman with red hair and freckles emerged from the wood behind Val. She wasn’t very tall compared to Val—though, not many people were—and didn’t appear as friendly. Her magic was strong, possibly a level three. She eyed Hailey and the others before turning to Val.

“Everything okay out here?” she asked.

Val smiled. “Yeah, we’re good. Guys, this is my best friend Jo. Jo, this is High Priestess Hailey Claiborne.”

Jo turned to Hailey with a smile. She shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“And these are her friends, Jake and Reggie. They’re non-witches, so they can’t come into the coven right now. Do you mind staying with them until we get back?”

Jo looked over at Val, and they seemed to communicate with their eyes. Hailey and Jake shared a look.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Jo decided.

Jake turned to Reggie and muttered under his breath, “Why do I feel like this is a trap?”

“I’ll bring her back in an hour,” Val promised. She smiled at Hailey. “Shall we?”

Jake and Reggie leaned against the car and watched Hailey disappear in the trees. In their place remained that woman, Jo. She rocked on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So,” she began, “if neither of you are witches, how do you know one?”

“It’s a long story—” Jake began.

“She’s a friend of friends,” Reggie said.

“Sam Golbach and Colby Brock?” They stared at her. She laughed. “Val tells me everything. We _are_ best friends, you know.” She moved closer and dropped her arms. “Is Colby the same guy who was tried a few months ago when Casey Claiborne was still alive?”

Jake grimaced. “Uh, yeah.”

“I thought so. Word traveled fast with that one. Covens don’t usually hold trials, especially not with the witch council involved. There were rumors and conspiracy theories that COLA was working with Marcus Pierce this whole time. _I_ thought the trial was one of Marcus’s insiders finally caught.”

“COLA?” Reggie asked.

“Coven of Los Angeles.”

“How’d you know Colby was the same guy?” Jake said.

“I didn’t for sure, just went off of coincidence's sake. But some said that the one on trial was a new witch, others said he was a seer, like Marcus. Once Val told me about Sam and Colby, I questioned whether both rumors were true just for two different people.”

Jake nodded. “Well yeah, you’re right. Sam and Colby were both there… I was there too.”

Her eyes widened. “You were? Seriously? What happened, can you tell me?”

“Uh…” Jake glanced at Reggie, who shrugged. “I guess so. It was a few months ago, so it’s probably not a big deal now.”

They sat at the side of the car, Jake and Reggie leaned against the door with Jo in front of them. She crossed her legs and picked at the weeds growing through the gravel.

“I don’t remember how we got there,” Jake began. “I woke up in a cage with Sam, and Colby wasn’t with us. Sam was already awake, and he—” He tripped over his words. Sam was possessed. Did that make any difference? She already knew he had the Sight, so maybe this was okay. He wasn’t sure. “Uh….”

She rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing you can tell me that I don’t know already.”

“He was… possessed.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “By who? Wait, never mind—don’t say their name.”

“Right, okay, anyways—we were in the basement of the church with a priestess or witch or something—she exorcised Sam.”

“She was probably just a Christian, not a witch. Still, good for her. She saved him.”

Jake shook his head. “No, but… Sam agreed to it. And then Sallos saved Sam _and_ Colby.”

“Don’t say his name!” Jo hissed. “Are you crazy? You can’t just say demons’ names like that. It summons them and gives them power.”

“But Sallos is a pacifist. He’s a good guy… well, he’s not a _bad_ guy at least.”

“He possessed Sam.”

“Yeah, he also saved Sam from getting arrested for trespassing. And then, like I said, he saved Colby. He was on our side, honestly.”

Jo leaned back on her hands. “Okay, then continue.”

“The exorcism didn’t finish. He took control of the woman instead, then we went to find Colby.”

“What—Why didn’t the exorcism finish?”

Jake rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Cause I, uh, pulled her cross necklace off… allowing Sallos to take possession of her.”

Jo stared in disbelief.

“In my _defense,”_ he began, “we were in a cage, and she wasn’t letting us out, and Sallos was the only one who was coming up with a plan, so it wasn’t hard to pick a side!”

“But you can’t trust demons! That’s the first rule of the supernatural!”

“Give me a break! Sam and Colby literally filled me in _the night before the trial!_ I _just_ found out magic existed, and then suddenly one of my best friends was possessed and the other was about to be, like, killed by witches or something! I was stressed.”

Reggie sat back. He listened to their voices echo in the trees, and he hoped nothing was around to hear them.

“Okay, whatever,” she sighed. “Just continue.”

While Jake continued his story, something rustled in bushes nearby. It rushed from one tree to another with speed that wasn’t human. Red eyes pierced through the greenery. It watched the three humans sitting by the car, and it waited.

••••••••••

The witches of the San Diego Coven stared at Hailey and Val as they walked through the halls of the observatory. Some waved, some greeted their High Priestess, but a lot only watched. Goosebumps rose across Hailey’s arms. Some of the witches were young, late teens even, and they just looked… scared. Scared and confused and… and Hailey understood Val’s struggle. Maybe not completely—fortunately, neither she nor Casey had had to deal with an attack on their coven—but Hailey had enough empathy to see the other side, and her heart ached for them.

“Have you told Taylor’s wife what you think happened to him?” Hailey asked softly as they turned a corner.

Val swallowed thickly. “No,” she admitted. She didn’t even glance at Hailey. “I don’t know how.”

“Okay, we need to go talk to her right now.”

Val stopped suddenly. Hailey turned in surprise, then her eyes darted around the hallway. They were almost alone, but not well enough.

“We _can’t,”_ Val whispered, as if that would help anything. Eavesdropping spells surely existed, and Hailey would bet anything that more witches were listening in than what appeared.

Hailey sighed. “Where’s your office?”

“Straight ahead.”

She grabbed Val’s hand and stormed down the end of the hall. There were more whispers. Hailey released her hand a few feet from the office and stepped aside. She followed Val through the doors and pulled them shut behind her.

Val’s office resembled Hailey’s in its dark wooden desk and walls covered in bookshelves. She had a bright red office chair that matched the accents in the red and navy rug at their feet. Papers mainly decorated her desk along with spots of crystals and incense on the corner. Plants hung from the windows, potted with vines spilling over the sides. Glass covered most of the wall behind her desk. They were old windows, divided into smaller squares with years of nature wearing at the edges.

“I like your office,” Hailey said. “It feels… personal.”

Val smiled as best as she could manage all things considered. “Yeah, because it’s _my_ office. Have you considered actually moving into yours sometime?”

Hailey shifted her weight and didn’t answer. “So, tell me what you know about everything.”

Val sighed and leaned against her desk. “Jo told me Taylor left Wednesday afternoon to deal with something at work. When he and his family first moved in, he told me he’d scheduled a week off to lay low and let things blow over.”

“So, he shouldn’t have been at work,” Hailey realized. “His alibi doesn’t hold up.”

Val nodded. “As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Jo Gambit called the hotel Taylor works at to check in after she didn’t hear from him all day Wednesday, and his manager said Taylor never came in.”

“Do you think he willingly met Marcus, or was he kidnapped?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but one of my friends say they saw someone at the edge of the property Wednesday morning. They warned Jo and Taylor, so maybe he was nervous that Marcus would try something and met him before anything happened.”

“And you’ve talked to the police? No one’s reported anything?”

Val shook her head sadly. “There’s been no word.”

Hailey inhaled deeply. She paced, slow and absent, trying to figure out what to do next. First, they had to talk to Jo Gambit. They had to update her, share the theories, and warn her for what might happen. It was the best thing to do, but unfortunately, it would also be the hardest. 

Val stared at the floor with sad eyes. Hailey leaned against the desk next to her. “We have to tell her what’s going on,” she said softly. “Or at least what _might_ be going on. She deserves to know.”

“I know.” Val wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “It’s just… I welcomed them into this coven with a promise to _protect_ them.”

“And you did everything you could! If that stranger had decided to attack that morning, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against these witches. Val, the power your coven has rivals mine. The magic here is _strong._ If Marcus had come here looking for a fight, it would _not_ have been an easy battle.” Hailey squeezed her hand. “But he didn’t _. Taylor_ went to him, and that’s not your fault. He made the choice to leave.”

Val sniffed again. She smiled weakly at Hailey. “Thank you for making the drive down here. We haven’t known each other for very long, and you didn’t have to come, but you did. So thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“I can’t remember Casey ever helping other covens when they needed it, unless it benefited him as well. I want to change that.” 

“That’s really admirable. You’re off to a great start.” Val pushed off the desk. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. Then she turned to Hailey and said, “Okay, we’ll go talk to her. Then, we try to figure out who the hell was on our property a few days ago if it wasn’t Marcus. You know him better than we do; maybe you’ll recognize the guy if you hear a description.”

Hailey nodded. “Maybe.” She gestured to the door. “I’m right behind you.”

••••••••••

Taylor’s kids really adored the observatory deck on its own, but the cherry on top was Val’s friends Hayden and Aiden showing off their earth magic. Aiden had Kennedy, the six year old girl, mesmerized by a wall of daisies that seemed to never stop sprouting. Hayden sat with Xander, Kennedy’s younger brother, next to the daisy wall. They were making crowns with whatever type of flower Xander desired.

Jo Gambit watched by the door, a sad smile on her face. They were the only thing keeping her mind off her husband, who she hadn’t heard from in nearly two days. She only feared the worst. She tried not to, but in the recent months, it seemed like fearing the worst was the only realistic option. She’d known the Sight could be dangerous and horrifying, but lately, it seemed that danger multiplied. 

When she saw Val’s crestfallen face, she knew she’d been right. Though despite trying to prepare herself for this moment, her legs still nearly gave out when Val voiced her theories on why Taylor had yet to return. The color still drained from her face. Her heart still stopped beating for half a second. Her world—previously in a constant slow motion as she waited for another shoe to drop—came to a halt completely.

They moved out of the observatory. She didn’t want her kids to see her like this. In the hall, the coven witches stared as they hurried past. They’d been so friendly and welcoming despite the obvious difference in species, and Jo appreciated it, she really did, but in that moment, she just wanted them to go away. She wanted to go away, to leave this supernatural prison and get back to the real world—her world. Maybe it wasn’t as safe, but at least nobody was targeting their family. At least nobody attacked them in the human world and wanted Taylor’s blood for some ungodly reason. It wasn’t safe, but it was familiar and it was home, and she could  _ handle _ regular humans. But this?

“I’m so sorry,” Val said for the third time. She genuinely seemed almost as distraught as Jo, and that made everything  _ harder. _ Jo wanted to hate the whole supernatural community. She wanted to despise every single species, even the ones she hadn’t met and hoped she never would. She wanted to spit in their faces, she wanted to burn something, she—she just—

She just wanted them to  _ pay. _

But hating the supernatural world meant hating Valentine Cruse, the kind High Priestess who took strangers into her coven on a whim, simply because Taylor called for help. It meant ruining the newfound fascination and curiosity instilled in her children since coming here. 

Jo sat on the ground and sobbed for a few minutes. Her head was stuffed with cotton, and it hurt. Everything hurt. Someone wrapped an arm around her, and through her tears, she saw Val’s braids and sad frown. Jo buried her face into her shoulder. They were practically strangers, but in that moment, Val was her closest friend.

On her other side, a hand rubbed soothing circles in her back. Jo looked over, and there was the other High Priestess Hailey Claiborne. They knew even less about each other having just met five minutes earlier. Jo could tell in the weak, awkward smile Hailey gave her that this was out of her comfort zone. Still, she  _ tried. _ Damnit! How could she ever hate them?

“It’s not your fault,” she said after she’d calmed down. She wiped her tears and sniffed. “A part of me really wants to blame you, though. I want to blame all of you, just to… to… just to have someone to blame. And I know that’s not right, but I’m  _ angry!” _ Her voice crumbled. More tears fell. Hailey squeezed her shoulder.

“You have every single right to be angry,” Val said. “What Marcus is doing—whatever he’s doing—is wrong, and I’m not going to rest until I know he’s stopped.” She clenched her jaw. “I swear, we’re going to get justice for Taylor.” 

You know what? Jo believed her. She really believed every word.

She squeezed Val’s hand. “Thank you.”

Next to them, Hailey’s phone started to ring. She recoiled in surprise and immediately grabbed it from her pocket.

“I’m sorry!” she said. “That really ruined the mood, I’m—” She laughed sheepishly.

Jo smiled. “No, it’s okay. I think it eased the mood a bit. Go take it.”

Hailey climbed to her feet. As she walked down the hall, Jo heard her say, “Hey Sam, now isn’t the best time….”

“Oh um,” Val said suddenly, “I don’t know if this is a good time to bring it up, but there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“What’s that?”

“Your daughter Kennedy seems to be showing signs of developing magic.”

Jo’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Have you noticed how the plants in the observatory have flourished since you arrived last week? That’s Kennedy’s doing.”

Jo shook her head. “I don’t understand.” 

“Children obviously have a ton of life about them, right? In witches, that energy turns into magic. Depending on a lot of factors including environment and how they’re raised, that energy can either be positive or negative. Kennedy has so much  _ life _ in her, Jo.” Val was beaming now, like some of Kennedy’s energy was affecting her as well. “I had my suspicions and sent the twins in there today to see how she reacted to them. Those daisies growing on the wall? That wasn’t Aiden’s doing, it was  _ hers.” _

Jo opened and closed her mouth a few times, struggling to find the words. One of  _ her _ kids? A witch?

“I know this is a lot to take in at once, and I completely understand if you don’t want to involve her in our world. It can be dangerous sometimes, I won’t lie, but we can help her control and develop her magic. I believe she could be  _ powerful _ one day.”

Jo tried imagining it, but she couldn’t. Her little Kennedy, a powerful witch. She didn’t want to like the idea, but then she remembered how  _ happy _ Kennedy’s been in the observatory, ever since day one. Truthfully, she’d never seen her child more attentive or curious about anything.

“Well, I—”

BANG BANG BANG!

Val and Jo froze. Down the hall, Hailey hurriedly ended her call. She pocketed her phone and rushed back to the women.

“What was that?!” she asked. She offered a hand to Jo and pulled her to her feet.

“Jo, you stay here,” Val ordered. “We’ll check it out, okay?”

Jo nodded. “Yeah. Stay safe ladies.”

Hailey turned to Val. “Let’s go.”

••••••••••

“So, what do you guys know about that Sight drug going around?” Jo asked, brushing the gravel off her hands. “Do you think it’s real? I’ve heard a few things, but I don’t know whether to believe it or not.”

Reggie looked at Jake. Jake sighed heavily. “It’s real,” he said. “And it sucks ass.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Maybe.”

“So, it works?” Jake and Reggie nodded. She smiled. “That’s great.”

Reggie frowned. He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… shouldn’t you be against it? The drug exposes witches to regular people and… hunters.”

Jo’s smile fell as quickly as it appeared. Her eyes widened a fraction, and she leaned away from them. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not—I just meant… that’s great that people can defend themselves. If they need to. Because knowing what’s attacking them makes it easier to fight back sometimes, right? But, it’s definitely a threat to my people. To the witches.”

The brothers shared another look with raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes.

Ahead of them, bushes trembled as something bolted past. Jake saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. He froze. A twig snapped, and birds flew away from a tree behind Jo. Jake and Reggie held their breaths; they were afraid to move unlike Jo, who climbed to her feet slowly. She had something in her hand, and when Reggie leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of it, his stomach dropped. It was silver, shaped like a gun. Who _was_ this woman?

“You’re trespassing on sacred land,” she announced. “Show yourself, now.”

The boys stood cautiously. They were careful not to make any more noise than the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Jake began to search the trees for anything weird, but then Reggie nudged his arm and pointed to the gun.

Jake looked at Reggie in alarm. “What’s she doing?” he whispered.

“I dunno, but,” Reggie watched Jo, “I suddenly feel really weird about being in the forest alone with a witch we don’t know. What if whoever’s out there is on her side?”

Jake backed into the car. He took a few deep breaths. “I don’t like this.”

Reggie moved in front of Jake at the same time as another woman stepping into the open. She looked a bit older than them with long pink hair braided to the side and bright red eyes.

“I don’t suppose her eyes are red because she’s a seer and there’s just a ghost around?” Reggie asked hopefully.

“Never met one,” Jo answered. She crept forward and aimed her gun at the woman. “Do seers have sharp teeth like that?”

The woman hissed and bared her _fangs. Actual_ fangs! There weren’t just two like in the movies, but whole _rows_ of razor sharp teeth that dropped and curved over her human set like tiny _knives._

“Holy shit—!” Reggie yelled.

BANG! Jo fired her gun without hesitation. The kickback barely had any effect on her; she stood solid as a rock, didn’t even _flinch._

The woman evaded the bullet with a quick shift to the right. She moved as blur, too fast to see. BANG! BANG! BANG! She dodged each attack, and suddenly she was _there,_ right in front of them, close enough for Reggie to see the definition in her fangs and the stains of red from her last meal. She knocked the gun to the side and grabbed Jo’s shoulders. She bent Jo’s head to the side, and the corners of her mouth curved into a malicious grin.

Reggie moved to help—to shove the woman or grab the gun or do something—but Jo was one step ahead of him. She stomped on the vampire’s foot, then elbowed her in the stomach and shoved her away. Once there was distance between them, Jo fumbled for her locket. She snapped it open, and a blinding light poured from the jewelry. It glared into the vampire’s eyes and melted the skin on her cheekbones in the process.

“Hurry!” Jo shouted. “Someone grab the gun and shoot her!”

Reggie sprung for the opportunity. He bolted around Jo and snatched the gun off the ground. “What will a gun do?” he shouted as he aimed the weapon. “Regular bullets won’t hurt vampires—everyone knows that!”

“Just do it!” Jo growled.

He clocked the pistol and took aim. This wasn’t his first time shooting a gun, though it had been a few years. Never in his life did he picture himself using his military basic combat training in the civilian world like this (or ever again, really), with his little brother on one side and an actual fucking vampire on the other, but hell, here goes nothing.

BANG! He only flinched a little at the noise. The kickback hurt his arms. The vampire’s body lurched with the bullet piercing her hip. She staggered back with a pained howl, lost her footing, and collapsed to the ground in a mess of dirt and blood.

Jo grabbed the gun from Reggie and raced to the woman. She kept her gun pointed at her and demanded, “Who are you? How did you find this place?”

“I’m a friend,” the woman spat, splattering watery blood across the ground. She grinned weakly. “Of Marcus’s.”

“Well tell Marcus to stop sending his monsters around here,” Jo growled. “You’re lucky I’m letting you leave alive. Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Reggie backed away toward Jake. He didn’t tear his eyes from the vampire until his arm brushed against his brother’s.

“You good?” he asked.

Jake sighed heavily. “Yeah,” he said. “I think so.” He grinned. “Nice job, bro. That looked badass.”

The vampire struggled to her feet. She swayed dangerously and pressed her hands to her hip as she hobbled off into the forest. When they were alone, Jo lowered her weapon.

“So uh, what the hell?” Reggie asked. “I thought only wood damaged vampires.”

Jo shook her head. “Maybe in other countries’ lores, but vampires originating in the US are different.”

“Of course they are,” Jake muttered.

“First mention of a vampire in the US came from New Orleans back when tuberculosis and syphilis were deadly and incurable. A witch was diagnosed with tuberculosis and performed a dangerous spell to stay alive. It worked, but since the disease had already affected her bloodstream, she needed more blood to survive. The US vampire evolved from that along with the influence of foreign versions of their kind into what they are today. Normal vampires’ weaknesses are wooden stakes and onions, but we use mercury laced wooden bullets on the Americans.”

Jo unloaded her gun and held her hand out for them to look at the ammo. “These aren’t deadly, but it’ll slow them down.”

“Whoa,” Jake said as he grabbed a bullet. They were shaped like actual bullet shells with silver carved into the wood.

“And this looks like a regular pistol, but it’s actually a special kind of gun used only by supernatural hunters. It’s universal to any occult-damaging ammo.”

Reggie frowned at her. “Wait so, you’re a hunter?”

“Yeah,” she admitted hesitantly. “I’m also a witch, but I was a hunter first.”

“Does… Val know about that?” Jake said.

Jo sighed. “No, she doesn’t. Nobody does, so this stays between us, okay? Anybody finding out right now after everything that’s happened would only make things worse.”

Reggie glanced at Jake, who nodded in return. “Okay,” Reggie said, “we’ll keep your secret. But I have _questions._ How long have you been a hunter? How do you take down other supernatural creatures?”

“First of all, I don’t _take down_ anyone. I’ve never actually _killed_ another supernatural. Most of us aren’t taught like that, and it’s basically the same across the country as far as I know. There’s an unspoken rule in our world: we don’t bother them unless they become a problem. Maybe some people go for the kill, but I don’t. I didn’t want to when I first went into hunting—I was seventeen, by the way—then I began practicing magic, and then killing another supernatural when I was a part of their world just felt wrong.”

“If that’s the case, then… the drug shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?” Jake said. “Hailey thinks humans seeing the supernatural will make it easier for hunters to kill them, but if the hunters aren’t really killing anyone, then it’s okay.”

“But not everyone buying the drug is a hunter,” Jo said. “And maybe not every hunter who buys it follows that rule.” She sighed. “I think there are pros and cons to it, and I understand both sides. On one hand, if people can see the creatures out there, they can better prepare or defend themselves for an encounter. On the other hand, if it gets to the wrong crowd, people could start attacking out of fear. Like, imagine if a regular human got a hold of it and they saw—I don’t know—a vampire’s fangs whenever they’re out at dinner, and they kill them just because they don’t understand what they’re seeing. If _humans_ got their hands on that stuff… it would be a bloodbath. They could seriously put a dent in the supernatural population, and vice versa.”

“But maybe if humans knew about it, the supernatural could be more open about the world, so people would understand them, and maybe we could all live together?” Reggie suggested, but even as he said it, he knew they were empty words.

Jo chuckled in disbelief. “That would be great, but we all know how the human race has dealt with people different from them through the years.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. That’s why the supernatural’s safety outweighs the humans. Their survival relies on being able to blend in. That’s why that drug has to be taken care of.”

“Also, it’s probably deadly to humans too,” Jake added. “Eventually.”

“Hey, can I get your number?” Reggie asked. Just as Jake made a noise of surprise behind him, he added quickly, _“Not_ because—I have a _girlfriend,_ I just… I kinda want to know more about being a hunter.”

Jo laughed. “Yeah, sure. Give me your phone.”

“Jo!” Val’s voice cut through the trees. “Hey!” She raced down the path with Hailey right behind her. “Are you guys okay?!”

“We heard gunshots,” Hailey said. She stopped next to the car and looked around. “What happened?”

“Oh um—” Jo began.

“Uhh… bear,” Reggie said helpfully. He nodded a few times while glancing around the clearing. “Yeah. We saw a bear.”

Val was incredulous. “Did you _kill_ it?!”  
“No, no,” Jo reassured. “I shot at it— _near_ it, just to scare it off. We’re fine.”

“Since when do you know how to shoot a _gun?”_ Val gasped. “Jo, it’s like I don’t even _know_ you.” She was obviously over-exaggerating, and Jo laughed at her for it.

“Val, I’m from _Kentucky._ Of course I know how to shoot a gun.”

Val shook her head in disbelief. _“Un_ believable.”

“Shut up, you’re so dramatic.” She snickered and laughed with Val as she joined her at the front of the car.

“Much like this trip, apparently,” Hailey chuckled.

“Thank you again for making the drive,” Val said. “You were a _huge_ help today.”

Beside her, Jo looked at the boys. She raised her eyebrows and nodded ever so slightly toward the women next to them, like she was trying to hint at something.

“Ooooooh,” Jake cooed.

After Val and Hailey bid their goodbyes, the trio headed for the car. “Drive safe guys,” Jo said with a wave.

Jake got in the front this time. He helped Hailey turn her car around without backing into a tree. Soon, they were back on the gravel road and heading home.

“Bet our trip was cooler than theirs,” Reggie said after a moment of silence.

“Fuck yeah, Jaileggie for the _win,”_ Jake agreed.

Hailey laughed. “I have to admit, I do like this team we’ve made here.”

“Be honest.” Reggie leaned forward between the two front seats. “Do you like us better than Sam and Colby?”

“We won’t tell them,” Jake promised with a sly grin.

Hailey hummed. “I’m not about to choose favorites, but we might have the more interesting adventures. I mean, a bear attack.” She glanced at the boys with a raised eyebrow. “Are we still running with that?”

“How’d you know?” Jake sighed.

“Cause I’ve met some good liars, and you guys are _not_ them.”

“We fooled Val,” Reggie argued.

“I’m not _entirely_ sure about that. So come on, spill it. What really happened?”

Jake and Reggie shared a look.

“Fine,” Jake said. “But this stays between us. Pinky swear.”

Hailey laughed. “Deal.” She raised her pinkie to his.

And they shook on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you start writing a solby book and then the story evolves and you start to love the other relationships just as much, if not more, as the original ship xD
> 
> i looooove jaileggie guys lol


	13. salem || [soon-to-be] stoners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Colby, and Corey finally arrive at Maggie's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on wednesday night, my town's tornado siren sounded for the second time in my life, so of course, we anticipated the worst. when that didn't happen, i took to snapchat with something along the lines of "that storm was weak lolol" AND THEN a second wave blew through with strong winds that surely rivaled an actual tornado. my town's electric was out for the following six hours, and even after it came back on, our wifi was gone for another two & a half days. :'))
> 
> everything's good though. only a few dozen trees were knocked down, and as far as i know, nobody's homes were severely damaged. 
> 
> TL;DR: i accidentally picked a fight with a storm & lost [my wifi]

Margaret’s street had a mixture of old colonial and new modern houses. The colonials were tall and perfectly square, most two stories with rectangular windows and a small porch in front of the door. They came in all sorts of colors: black, gray, blue, red, yellow, and white. The GPS announced they’d arrived at a two story, bright yellow wood with black shutters and a red door. Anywhere else, bright yellow would’ve been out of place, but for whatever reason, it fit in Salem, Mass.

Margaret sat on her porch with a notebook on her lap and a marker in her hand. Sam only saw her a few times before, mainly in passing when they were at their old house. She and Colby didn’t Facetime as much as they used to, but their lives _had_ been a nonstop whirlwind since they moved into their apartment. They still texted though, and sometimes Colby would say something like, “Maggie says hi,” and that was the most conversation Sam had with her.

“I’m nervous,” Colby breathed with an uneasy smile. “I don’t know why.”

“Cause you’re meeting her for the first time.” Sam squeezed his hand and grinned. “That’s okay; she’s probably just as nervous.”

“How long have you known her?” Corey asked.

“It’ll be a year in July.”

“You’re practically best friends,” Sam joked.

Colby took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

She was on her feet and turning toward her house when she heard the first door shut. She looked back in surprise, then a grin broke out across her face. She laid her notebook on the porch and headed for them.

“Colby Brock,” she said as she approached.

Colby beamed at her. “Maggie Stoner.” He pulled her into a tight hug.

After Corey retrieved his bag, Sam closed the trunk, and they met Colby on the sidewalk. Sam was adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder when Maggie moved to give him a hug.

“Sam,” she said. “Nice to finally meet you!” He smiled. She gave Corey a hug next, even though they hadn’t been introduced yet.

“Maggie, this is our friend Corey,” Colby said.

Corey beamed when she pulled away. “Nice to meet you; you give awesome hugs.”

She laughed. “Thanks! Come on in, guys.” She turned on her heel and led the trio up the walkway to her front door. “Fair warning,” Maggie said as they stepped inside, “this place _is_ haunted. They’re harmless, though.”

Corey sucked in a breath of air. “Great,” he said, like it wasn’t great at all. He searched the house wildly as if he’d spot something, then his gaze settled on Sam.

“Arthur loves gossiping with them,” Maggie continued. “He’s so weird.”

“How does Arthur talk to them?” Colby asked.

She frowned. “Did I… did I not mention he’s a seer too?”

“What do you mean ‘too’?”

“Colby,” she laughed and pointed at Sam, “his eyes.”

Sam’s red, glowing eyes darted around the room, taking in everything they couldn’t. He finally looked back at the others, only to find them already staring. He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “What?” He said.

Colby smiled. He looked back at Maggie. “Fair point. How long has Arthur had the Sight?”

“About two years,” she said. “I think he got it around the time we started dating.”

“How did it happen?” Sam asked.

Maggie shook her head. “His frat thought it would be fun to summon a demon to help with finals. They summoned the wrong demon.”

Corey’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit.”

“He’s okay with it though. Sometimes I think he’s a little… _too_ okay with it.”

“What do you mean?” Colby said.

“You’ll see. Oh, I have to redraw some sigils outside.” She gestured to the couches. “Make yourselves at home! I’ll be right back.”

While Sam and Corey found a seat, Colby followed Maggie outside.

“What’re the sigils for?” he asked.

“The usual: negative energy, bad spirits… Arthur’s friend Charlie.”

Colby snickered. “What’s wrong with his friend?”

“He’s a demon for one, but that’s not the worst of it. He’s a major pain in the ass; I can’t get rid of him. Arthur won’t let me.”

Colby stared. “Wait, what? A demon, seriously? Maggie, what the he—“

“He’s harmless, I promise. He’s a poltergeist at worst. I told him he’s not allowed around while you guys are here.”

He sighed as he watched her draw the sigils. The doorframe was covered in broken symbols from previous warding attempts. Each seemed to tell a story: a few were disrupted by stray carvings, some had been painted over, some even had burn marks. Maggie explained Arthur was responsible for most of them; at first she genuinely wanted Charlie to never step foot in her house again, but then he began to grow on her like black mold, and now forbidding him from the building had become a silly game between them.

“You could’ve warned me, Maggie,” he said. He crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry, but… if he was honestly a problem, I would’ve taken care of it before you got here, okay? Honestly, he’s just a brat.” She finished the last sigil and recapped the marker. “Have some faith.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Guess I’m still on edge after today.”

She waved him back into the house. “It’s okay, I get it. First time run-ins with hunters are a bit frightening.”

“We didn’t—“ Sam’s laugh interrupted him.

“Sorry,” Sam said. He sat at the edge of one of the couches, a hand over his mouth to muffle his chuckles. He cast a red-eyed side glance to the lamp in the corner. 

Across from him, Corey seemed to be concentrating on his surroundings. His narrowed eyes darted around the room, searching for the joke he’d been left out of. Perhaps that was one of the only times he wished he could actually communicate with the spirit.

Colby caught Corey’s eyes and smirked as he made his way to the couch. He sat next to Sam and draped an arm around his shoulders. “What’s so funny?” he asked. He smiled fondly.

“They were telling me about how Arthur accidentally summoned this guy named Charlie while he was fucking high, and no one’s been able to get rid of him yet.”

“Yeah, that seems to be the story….”

“Arthur’s last class ends at six, so we can either hang out until then or we can go into town…” Maggie shrugged. “Up to you guys.”

“I’m tired,” Corey admitted. “Time zone differences always wear me out.”

Sam nodded. “We can take a nap and then go out later?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Colby said.

Maggie led them upstairs to their rooms. Corey’s was directly across from Sam and Colby’s. At the bottom of the old pine doors lay a neat line of salt. Colby stopped Sam before his foot drug through and messed up the line.

“Your rooms are completely off limits from the spirits in the house,” Maggie informed. “I made sure to cleanse each space and seal it with the salt lines.” She smiled at Corey. “So, you’re safe.”

Corey laughed nervously. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“No reason; I just hear this stuff makes you especially anxious.”

“Gee Colby, I didn’t know you talked about us so much,” Corey said with a halfhearted glare.

Colby grinned. _“Of course_ I talk about my best friends.”

Corey’s eyes widened, and he pressed his hand to his heart. _“Brother,”_ he said with full admiration.

Colby cupped Corey’s cheek. “I love you, brother.”

“Brotherrrr!”

Sam caught Maggie’s eye, and they laughed behind the boys’ backs. He turned to push his door open. Carefully, he stepped over the salt line and into the room.

“Just come down whenever,” Maggie said. “Have a nice nap.”

Colby smiled. “Thanks, Maggie.”

They watched her disappear down the stairs, then Corey turned to Colby.

“I don’t want to be in my room alone,” he admitted.

“She said there’s nothing in there.”

“Still!”

Colby sighed. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” He turned to the room. “I don’t know if there’s a place for you to nap, though—“

“There is,” Sam called. He stepped into view and pointed at something behind a wall. “There’s a couch.”

“Oh, cool,” Corey said. He strolled past Colby.

The bedroom wasn’t too large, just big enough for a queen bed, a dresser, and a couch across from the bed. A pine door stood on the left wall between the bed and one of the two rectangular windows. A skinny full length mirror hung on the back. A large, fuzzy blue rug lay across the floor. It matched the royal blue bedding and plain white walls. Two tall potted ferns stood on either side of the bed, each in royal blue and white painted pots.

“This house is pretty homey considering how old it is,” Sam said as he unzipped his bag.

“How old is it?” Corey asked.

“Little over two hundred.”

“Damn,” Colby said. “That’s old.”

“Another reason I don’t want to be in the room alone,” Corey whined. “And I really don’t want to meet Charlie.”

“I don’t either,” Sam admitted with a grin. “I’m not in the mood for demons.”

“Is anyone ever in the mood for demons?” Colby said.

“Arthur, apparently.”

Corey kicked his shoes off and laid on the couch. “How long are we planning to sleep?”

“I’m actually not tired,” Colby said, “so I’m going back down to hang out with Maggie.”

Sam met Corey’s pleading gaze. “Like an hour,” he said. He kicked his shoes off, peeled back the covers, and crawled onto the bed.

Corey nodded. “Good with me.”

“Do you wanna sleep in the bed since Colby’s going downstairs?”

Corey’s face lit up. “Oh my god, cuddling with Sam?” He rolled off the couch and pranced over to the bed. _“Of course.”_ He slid under the covers next to Sam.

“Sorey strikes again,” Sam joked.

Corey shook his head innocently. “Sorry Colby; it is what it is.”

Colby chuckled. “Not worried.” He ran his fingers through Sam’s hair and tipped his head back. 

He kissed Sam softly for several seconds, long enough for Corey to scoff and admit defeat, “Okay, okay, I get it. Solby for the win.”

When Colby pulled away, it was slow and gentle, with his teeth the last to let go of Sam’s lower lip. Corey turned away, hands dramatically thrown over his eyes as he shouted about PDA. 

“Better not forget about me.“ Colby winked.

Sam hummed. “How could I ever?”

As Colby stepped into the hall, he heard Corey say, “That was _disgusting.”_

To which Sam replied: “You’re just jealous.”

“You’re right. Imagine kissing _Colby Brock.”_

Sam laughed. “God, just _go to sleep.”_

Colby grinned. He pulled the door shut behind him and headed downstairs.

•••••

Sam’s alarm rang an hour later, and it startled them both awake. He immediately reached for his phone on the nightstand and silenced it. For a moment, neither moved, still drifting at the edge of a dream state. Sam gave in first. He sat up with a heavy sigh, yawned, and stretched. He looked back and shoved Corey’s shoulder. Corey moaned in response.

“Time to get up,” Sam said. He yawned again. “I’m hungry.”

“Ugh, me too.” Corey moaned again, more dramatic than the last, and begrudgingly pushed himself up. 

“Hey Corey?”

“Hm?”

“Would you hate me if I… if I summoned a demon?”

Corey’s eyes widened. “What, now?”

“No,” Sam laughed. “No, just in general. If I had the ability to summon them at will, and I did, would you… how would you feel about that?’

“Why’re you asking me?”

Sam shrugged. “I had a dream about it, so I’m just wondering. It’s called summoner’s magic. I don’t really know how it works.”

Corey didn’t look at him as he mulled it over. Sam, automatically fearing the worst, climbed out of bed to distract himself. He crossed the room to the couch holding their bags and dug through Colby’s duffle. Inside were two spell books: Maggie’s and Marcus’. He grabbed Marcus’ and hesitantly returned to the bed.

“You’re sure thinking a long time,” Sam said. “You can tell me if you don’t like the idea. It’s okay.”

“Well, I… I don’t know how I feel about it, honestly.” Corey shrugged. “I don’t know much about it.”

Sam hummed. He sat next to Corey and opened the book to a specific page. “Well, that’s better than the last time you found out a demon was involved. Look, Marcus has a whole chapter dedicated to summoner’s magic.” He skimmed through the text, and Corey read over his shoulder.

The door opened suddenly, and Sam snapped the book shut. Colby stepped into the room with a half eaten sugar cookie in his hand. He moved carefully, cringing every time a floorboard squeaked a bit too loudly beneath his feet, but when he saw the others were awake, he froze.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “I didn’t know if you guys were awake yet. What’re you doing?”

Sam sighed and laid the book in front of him. He mentally scolded himself for being so paranoid; of course it was Colby, who else _would_ it be?

“Reading,” he answered.

Colby snorted. “Nerds. C’mon, let’s go! There are cookies downstairs.”

Corey rolled off the bed. As he reached for his shoes, he asked, “You guys made cookies?”

“Arthur did when he got home. And Maggie was right: he really _does_ gossip with the ghosts. It’s like they’re best friends, and I don’t want to say it’s weird, but… it’s kind of weird.”

“Can’t blame him,” Sam said. “They talk a lot.”

While Sam and Corey walked around the room, getting ready to leave and forcing themselves to wake up, Colby grabbed the book off the bed. He raised an eyebrow and turned to the guys.

“Catching up on the Pierce classics?” he said.

Sam grabbed the book and laid it on Colby’s bag. “I was checking out summoner’s magic again.” He shrugged. “Just curious.”

“I think it would be cool,” Corey said.

Sam paused. He looked back at him. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Corey nodded. “Given that you’re the one summoning them, it would be pretty badass.”

Sam smiled. “Thanks, Corey.” He couldn’t ignore an excited flutter in his stomach as he laced up his shoes. Corey approved of a summoning ability; Sam was so relieved. Colby had always been on board, and he was obviously thankful for that, but _Corey?_ The most hesitant guy Sam knew in the supernatural world? Approving an ability to summon _demons?_ Wow, wow. A few months ago, he probably would’ve hit Sam again just at the _idea._ A weight lifted off his shoulders at the confession. The only people left to win over were the Webber brothers, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t be too hard.

As he turned toward the door, something out the window caught his eye. With the sun setting over the forest behind the house, he could make out a structure peeking over the tops of the trees.

“Hey, what’s that?” he said as he walked over. He pressed a hand to the glass and squinted into the distance. “Is that a church?”

“Looks like the steeple of one,” Colby said. He hugged Sam from behind and dropped his chin on his shoulder. “What’s it doing in the middle of the trees?”

Sam grinned. “Bet it’s abandoned.”

“I think we’ve reached our abandoned building limit today,” Corey said. “I’m too tired for another almost-run-in with hunters.”

“Maybe we can ask Maggie to show us out there tomorrow,” Colby suggested.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

The sweet scent of fresh baked cookies engulfed the entire house. As soon as they stepped into the hall, the aroma hit, and their stomachs growled. A soft tune by The Beatles played as they neared the kitchen. Maggie sat at the table, singing under her breath as she dunked a cookie in a glass of milk and watched her fiancé with a warm smile on her face. Across the room, Arthur danced around the oven, a plate in one hand and a spatula in the other, scooping cookies off the sheet to the beat of the song. When the plate filled, he spun around to place it on the table. He beamed at the sight of Corey and Sam.

“Hey, there’s the rest of them,” he said. He laid the spatula on the counter then offered his hand to Sam first. His nails were decorated with chipped blue and black paint, Sam noted and respected. “Arthur Gates, soon to be Stoner, nice to meet you.” Arthur was a handsome Asian man with a lot of black hair, soft and swooshed atop his head somehow looking both neat and messy and attractive all at once. It was the kind people would consider “bed head,” but it never looked bad. He wore a pair of navy pants and a matching blazer with a maroon undershirt. His shoes were dark loafers, the cherry on top of his Rich-Frat-Guy Look. “And _you_ are Sam, right? They told me about you; they really like you.”

Sam shook his hand. He ignored the last comment. Yeah, he knew that Arthur wasn’t crazy, but even after having his own Sight for nearly a year… that statement still sounded a bit deranged. That was the type of thing Sam wouldn’t say even to Colby; it gave him chills.

“Yeah,” he said politely. “Nice to meet you too.” Arthur glanced curiously at Sam's arm, right at the spot his sigil would be if it weren't cloaked. Sam pulled away with a frown. 

“Corey Scherer,” Corey said. They shook hands. 

“Are you a magician as well?”

Corey raised an eyebrow. “Magician?”

Maggie chuckled. “Arthur, babe, I told you, that’s not going to catch on.”

Arthur ignored her. “I call mainstream witches witches and _actual_ witches magicians. It’s easier to talk about them, especially around here.”

“What’s the difference?” Sam asked.

“Mainstream witches have watered down magic. All they do is talk to plants and shit and feel like they’re _one with nature.”_ Arthur rolled his eyes. “But magicians—they have the real power. Unlike mainstream witches, magicians have never lessened their abilities to please society’s fearful eye. They’ve hidden away, sure, but the true magical practice is still as strong within them as it was thousands of years ago. They’re the strongest of the two, which is why I don’t think they should fall into the same category as witches. Society has twisted the idea of witches into something innocent and harmless. Magicians are anything but.” He pointed to his fianceé. “Maggie’s a magician. So is Colby, I reckon.” 

Hailey too, Sam figured. Casey as well, and Marcus and Val. Arthur turned to say something to Colby, and Sam followed his gaze. But Colby? He wasn’t sure. Colby’s magic had developed tremendously since Sam first found out, but could he really be up there among Hailey and Casey? Already? 

“Are you related to Bill Gates?” Corey asked.

“God, I fucking _wish.”_

“His family _is_ rich, though,” Maggie said. “How else do you think we could afford this house as _college students?”_ She laughed and shook her head.

“Yeah. It’s also how I was able to accidentally summon a demon sophomore year for finals and then fail every test because I suddenly had the Sight and still managed to not be kicked out for the following semester.” Arthur sighed happily. “Money is such a beautiful thing.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. It all made perfect sense.

Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “Any-ways… I’m gonna show them around town, and we’ll probably stop for food. D’ya want anything, babe?”

Arthur sat at the other end of the table with a glass of milk. “No, I’m good. I had dinner at the cafeteria.” He picked five cookies off the plate then, as a second thought, added one more to his stack.

Maggie stopped to kiss his temple on her way to the sink. On her way back, Arthur said, “Drive safe. Love you.”

“We will. Love you too!” She pointed toward the door and followed the boys out. They headed for a silver Camry parked in front of their rental car. Colby took the front seat next to Maggie while Corey and Sam got in the back.

Most attractions were closing when they reached downtown. Maggie suggested a local restaurant with rooftop seating, and they spent most of the evening there. She told them all about the festivals and events that usually take place in the summer. A Pride parade took place a week earlier; there were still multicolored streamers clinging to street posts and confetti on the ground. Maggie pointed out all of the important buildings in the city: the Witch Trial Museum, the Witch House—originally owned by _the_ Judge Jonathan Corwin and the last standing tie with the 1692 trials—Gallows Hill, and Proctor's Ledge—the location of the hangings (Sam wasn't much into history, but knowing the place was _actually_ marked made him both perk up with curiosity and shudder).

On their way home, Sam asked about the church in the forest. It was a tabernacle from the late twenties, abandoned after a bigger church was built a few streets over. Maggie said the energy surrounding the property was good; she often studied out there or practiced her magic. Arthur liked taking a walk through there too; there were enough kind spirits lingering about to always spark up a friendly conversation with.

"We can go tomorrow if you want," she offered. She met them at the end of her yard and twirled her keys around her finger. "Morning would be best; I feel like the air is clearer."

 _"How_ early?" Corey asked carefully.

"Eleven?"

"Oh," he breathed, "okay. That I can do."

"Me too," Sam added with a laugh.

When they got inside, Arthur sat on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a bowl of popcorn next to him and a clear bong on his lap. He was just dipping his head to take another hit when the door opened. He inhaled deeply, tipped his head back, and slowly exhaled. Smoke poured out of his mouth.

Maggie turned to the guys with a sheepish smile. "Does this bother you?" She stared at Sam mainly, whose nose scrunched at the sight of it.

He tore his gaze from the bong, and when he finally met her eye, his cheeks flushed with the realization that he was caught. "No," he said. "Not really."

"You guys ever smoked before?" Arthur asked.

Corey shrugged. "Once."

"Few times," Colby answered. He shrugged too. "Just to try it."

Arthur nodded. "Sweet."

Sam nudged Colby's hand with his own, and Colby looked back at him. "Well, we're gonna head to bed," he said while reaching behind him to grab Sam's hand. He nodded at Maggie. "Tomorrow at eleven, right?"

Maggie grinned. "Tomorrow at eleven!"

As they made their way upstairs, Sam heard Arthur asking about tomorrow. When they reached the second floor, Corey hesitantly headed to his own room.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah… but keep the door unlocked." Corey smirked. "In case I want some midnight snuggles."

Colby snickered. "The door's always open, brother."

They stepped over their salt lines and disappeared into their bedrooms.

•••••

The next morning at ten thirty, a trio—two guys and a girl—walked the premises of the tabernacle. The girl stood at the entrance with a brown sack in her hands; she held it close to the ground and moved backward in a careful line, and yellow flowers poured onto the ground as she went. The men—brothers, young adults—worked on painting an ancient sigil across the door. They found it in an old book belonging to their grandfather; apparently, witches used the sigils to summon powerful demons to do their biddings. They hoped to at least scare some tourists.

The site was empty by eleven. The trio disappeared to grab lunch, but they planned on returning to see what they catch.

At the edge of the forest, right at the invisible line between humanity and the supernatural, an unknowing foursome ventured into the trees, eager and curious about what they'll find.


	14. salem || the magician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to an abandoned church is interrupted by a group of local witch hunters.

Wildflowers covered the forest floor. There were many colors: white, blue, red, purple, orange, and pink. Sam inhaled deeply. He couldn’t place the smell, but he knew it was floral and _fresh._ Along with the soft noises of nature and the warm morning sun peeking through the treetops, he understood why Maggie enjoyed this place so much. Ten minutes in, and he already felt more at peace than he had in a few weeks.

To his right, he spotted multiple small rings of mushrooms in the center of a clearing. They overlapped each other in near-perfect circles that made his skin crawl for some reason. Nobody else seemed to notice. Were they… ghost… mushrooms?

“Hey, Maggie?” he called. “Is there something special about those mushrooms over there?”

Maggie stepped around him to look. “Oh, those are fairy rings. Come on.” Fairy rings, of course. _Ghost mushrooms?_ Sam chuckled. She waved them over to the mysterious phenomenon. When they got too close, she threw her arm out and warned, “Don’t cross it! You should _never_ step inside of a fairy ring.”

Corey frowned. “Why?”

“There are many stories of fairy rings in folklore. Some say the mushrooms are stools for fairies to rest during festivals, and if you step into a ring during a full moon, you’ll be forced to dance with the creatures until you die. There are different variations of it, but the main idea is that you should never disturb anything like this. Nothing good can come of it.”

“Whoa,” Colby said. “That’s crazy.”

Corey looked up. “Is it weird that these are right next to that old church?”

Sam and the others followed his gaze. A few yards away stood the old tabernacle, a small wooden building no bigger than a one-roomed schoolhouse with a bell tower above the front door and a steeple on top. Vines stretched across the side and nearly reclaimed it to nature; only a third of the wood near the entrance remained untouched.

Maggie hummed. “Not entirely. I told you this is a magical place.”

“Have you ever been inside the church?” Corey asked. 

There was a guy standing nearby. He wore loose, torn clothing, and he was missing one of his shoes. His black hair appeared damp.

Sam nodded at him when the others weren’t looking. The guy nodded back.

“Yeah,” Maggie answered. “Arthur and I go in there a lot. It’s overgrown inside, and the pews are slowly deteriorating. It’s kind of beautiful.”

Sam turned toward the flowers. He bent down and plucked a few from the patches. Then, he trailed slowly a few feet behind his friends, working a daisy behind his ear.

“How’s it look?” Sam asked the ghost. He pointed to the flower and grinned.

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Feminine.” His fractured voice sounded like he had water stuck in his throat.

“Awesome.”

“Sam, you coming?” Corey called. He and Maggie were heading for the church.

Colby waited for Sam. He turned and offered his hand. Sam grabbed it, and they smiled warmly. Next to them, the man stared in pure confusion. Colby’s fingers brushed through Sam’s hair and stopped beneath his earlobe. He chuckled.

“Cute,” he said.

Sam blushed. “Thanks. I have one for you too.” He revealed his handful of daisies. “If you want one?”

“Yeah, of course I want one.” Colby held still while Sam carefully placed the flower behind his ear. Colby made a face, mumbling about being ticklish. When it was secure, Sam stepped back to admire the new look.

“Okay, now we have to show everyone how cute we are,” Sam said. He unlocked his phone and held it above their heads. Colby kissed his temple then walked ahead to rejoin the others while Sam uploaded the picture to his Instagram story.

He pocketed his phone and looked back at the ghost. For some reason, the man’s eyes were narrowed. He looked around nervously and clenched his jaw.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

“They’re back,” the man hissed.

Chills ran up Sam’s spine. He looked to his friends first, then around the clearing. “Who’s back? Should I warn my friends?”

“Don’t go into the church.”

“Wha— _Why?”_ Sam froze. His stomach leapt to his throat. Every muscle in his body tensed as he whipped around, just in time to see Maggie and Colby walking into the church. His eyes grew to the size of golf balls.

“Guys!” he yelled. He bolted across the clearing. “Guys, don’t—” Just as his foot touched the first step, a gust of wind blew through and slammed the doors shut. Corey groaned when he walked straight into them. His nose scraped against the wood. He recoiled with a scrunched face and his hand flying to the tip of his nose.

“What just happened?” he said. He looked back to Sam for answers.

Sam didn’t move for a few seconds; every bad scenario he could imagine ran through his head. Colby and Maggie were too quiet on the other side. His dry throat stung as he tried swallowing his nerves.

“Colby?” he called hesitantly. He climbed the rest of the stairs with trembling knees. He stopped at the door and knocked on it. “Colby! Baby, what happened? Are you guys okay?” Sam banged his fist against the wood. A few pieces between the doors chipped off; he could see a sliver of the inside.

“We’re okay. It’s okay,” Colby answered finally. He sounded so close—Sam couldn’t see inside anymore. He guessed Colby pressed against the door to speak clearer.

“I’m sorry, I—someone told me not to go to the church, and I didn’t say something in time,” Sam said. His forehead fell against the door.

“Sam, it’s fine,” Maggie said. “The door gets jammed a lot; it happens all the time.”

“What? But…” Sam turned away from the church. He found the ghost from before, standing in the same spot he’d left him, grinning.

“Boo!” he called then laughed.

Sam huffed. “Wow.”

“What?” Corey said.

“Ghosts are fucking assholes.”

“If you guys will step away from the door, we can probably get it open again,” Maggie said.

When they were back on the ground, they spotted something that made their blood run cold. There on the doors, large enough to take up both sides in red paint, was a sigil bearing a name too familiar to them. Corey gasped. Sam rushed forward again.

“Guys,” he said quickly. “Guys, don’t open the door yet.”

A pause. “Why?” Colby asked.

“There’s a sigil on the door. … Don’t know if it’s safe for you to come out yet.”

“You don’t think it’s safe for _us?”_ Maggie said in disbelief.

“Sam,” Colby said, right next to the door again, and Sam wished he was inside with them, “tell me what the sigil is.”

Sam swallowed thickly. He looked back at Corey, whose red nose was beginning to stand out against his white cheeks. He stepped back to gaze up at the enormous sigil. This had to be new. Surely Maggie wouldn’t take them to a church with a fucking demon sigil painted on it, right?

“It, um… it’s a demon’s sigil, love. I don’t want to say their name.”

_Sabnock._

Could he be summoned again simply by his sigil being drawn? Sam’s skin crawled. What if he came back and saw Colby? Did demons hold grudges? Hell, if any creature was going to, it would have to be demons.

“Is it the one from Hailey’s apartment?” Colby said.

“Yeah. I don’t know if he’s here, though. Can’t be too careful.”

Colby sighed. “How long should we stay in here?”

“I don’t really know, but let me break the sigil first and see what happens.”

Colby chuckled lowly. “If you see him, run.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“No, just come back when he’s not around.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, deal. We’ll check on you guys in a few hours. Hey Corey, can you get me a rock or a stick or something I can scratch paint off with?”

“You better come back with food,” Colby said. Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

“Any last meal requests?”

Colby hummed. “Just get me a milkshake from Chick-Fil-A.”

Corey joined him on the porch carrying a stick and a rock with smooth edges. “Here,” he said. “Pick your poison.”

Sam grabbed the rock. “Help me break the sigil.”

“How?”

“See how the whole thing’s a circle? Break the circle.”

They each took a side and began scraping away at the paint. While they worked, Maggie moved closer to the door. She asked, “What’s the deal with this demon?”

“It’s a long story,” Colby answered. “Our friend Hailey’s husband summoned him for, like, evil purposes, and then he died, and she didn’t know how to get rid of him for a long time. When she figured it out, our friend Jake and I helped her. We sent his ass back to hell.”

A twig snapped nearby. Sam froze. Corey turned to him with wide eyes.

“Did you hear that?” Corey whispered.

“We’re still in a forest. There _are_ animals out here,” Sam reasoned.

Voices echoed through the trees. Talking, laughter, random singing, all getting closer and closer.

“Not animals,” Corey hissed.

“So they’re just people. People come through here all the time, right Maggie?”

“Huh? Yeah,” she said, distracted. Then: “Wait, how do you know she _killed_ him?” She and Colby were locked in their own conversation.

“Plus,” Sam added with a shrug, “we’re armed.”

“I wouldn’t consider a rock and a stick _armed.”_ Corey rolled his eyes when Sam snickered. He moved to the edge of the porch. He began squinting into the distance for people, but then his eyes caught something yellow on the ground. A lot of yellow, actually. Familiar yellow flowers lay around the front of the church in an oddly perfect line. “Sam,” he said with a gasp.

“What?”

Corey pointed at his discovery. His hand trembled with a growing fear that had his body burning.

When Sam saw it, his heart sank. “Oh.”

“Oh?!”

“Hey guys,” Sam called—quietly now, since he’d suddenly become very aware of how _loudly_ their voices echoed—toward the doors, “there’s something else we need you to do.”

“What?” Maggie said.

“Stay in the church no matter what happens.”

“Why?” Colby demanded. “What’s happening?”

“Well uh—it’s probably nothing, but there’s people coming toward us. And there is witch hazel laid out a little too perfectly around the church.” Voices to their left. Sam pressed closer to the door. “Just stay quiet until they leave, okay?”

“Okay. There’s a good chance they’re just passing through,” Maggie said. “Tell us when it’s safe.”

“I will.”

“Sammy,” Colby called. A new wave of chills ran up Sam’s spine; he smiled. “Please be careful.”

“We will, I promise.” God, he wished he could kiss him right now or hold his hand or at least touch him. He felt words didn’t do enough anymore. After letting Colby down one too many times, Sam knew he needed to show more than tell.

There wasn’t time to feel sorry about that, though. As soon as the words left his mouth, a group of four young adults emerged from the trees to his left. There were three guys and one girl, too caught up in their conversation to notice Sam and Corey at first. Then one of the guys, a dark skinned man with bright blue hair, pointed at Sam.

“Hey!” he shouted.

“What’re you doing?” the girl asked. She stood as the shortest of the group with light skin and wavy brown hair. She had a flower in her hair as well; hers was purple.

“Breaking the sigil,” Sam answered. He took a deep breath before stepping away from the doors. “We were just taking a walk and saw it, and I don’t know, it just seems like a bad idea to have a demon sigil painted on a church, you know?”

“How’d you know it was a demon sigil?” she said.

“We’re, uh, we’re kind of ghost hunters,” Corey answered. He side eyed Sam. “Kind of. We love researching stuff like that.”

The blue haired guy glanced at the church. “Is it just you two?”

“Yep, just us,” Sam said. “We’re not from here, just visiting.”

“Visiting who?” one of the other guys said. They looked like brothers—same pudgy cheeks and dirty blond hair. One had more of a tan than the other, and his eyes were blue while the other had brown.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “The town? Of Salem?” He joined Corey on the grass and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’re you doing?”

“None of your business,” the girl sneered.

“Well you asked us, so…” Corey said.

“Clearly we’re no threat to you, so if you could just leave us alone, that’d be great,” Sam said. He tried to remain level headed and not glare at them, but they were just pushy enough to get on his nerves.

Suddenly, one of the brothers stepped forward with a gun in his hand. “We just have a few questions for you.”

“Dude!” the girl gasped.

“Hey buddy, what the hell?” the blue haired guy asked.

“Roman,” his brother scolded.

Roman ignored them. He waved the nozzle of the gun between Sam and Corey, then toward the witch hazel. “Go pick up a flower.”

Sam and Corey glanced at each other. Reluctantly, they turned to the flowers. Sam tried to walk quickly, but Corey couldn’t manage. He had too many thoughts racing through his head to take this fast. 

“What the fuck do we do?” Corey whispered. “I didn’t think they’d have guns!”

“They’re not going to shoot us. All we have to do is prove the witch hazel won’t hurt us, and it’ll be over.” Sam glanced toward the church. He wondered if Colby and Maggie were peeking through the windows. Nah, Colby would probably be trying to break down the door. He hoped they couldn’t see anything.

They scooped the flowers into their hands and turned toward the strangers. Roman’s gun lowered an inch when he realized the plant didn’t affect them.

“See?” Sam said. “Not witches.” He dropped the flowers.

“How’d you know we’re looking for witches?” the girl asked.

“Like I said,” Corey answered, and his voice shook on every word, “we do our research.”

“So put the gun down, Roman,” his brother hissed.

Roman rolled his eyes. He stuck his weapon in his waistband. Everybody breathed a bit easier with it gone.

“Who are you guys?” Sam asked.

The group glanced at each other. Roman narrowed his eyes, and his brother shrugged and mumbled under his breath. They shared looks that spoke volumes. Though, that blue haired guy stood at the back, bored.

“We’re hunters,” the girl said. “Looking for our first catch; we were hoping to find some witches around here. Everyone knows this is where the casting happens.” She glanced around the forest in disgust.

“What makes you think you can go against a witch?” Corey laughed. “Aren’t they like, powerful and shit?”

“It’s not hard to figure out when you know their weaknesses,” Roman explained. He stepped forward and reached into his jacket pocket. Sam and Corey immediately moved back. He revealed a small crystal, about the size of his palm. It looked… familiar.

“A crystal?” Sam said.

“This is a special kind of quartz grown in a secret cave cursed by witches long ago. Legend has it, a coven created the crystal to drain the magic from a rival in a nearby city threatening to destroy their crops. It drains magic from a user and stores it inside to be used for another day.”

“If it’s so dangerous, how the hell did you get it?” Corey said.

Roman smirked. “I got mine from my dad, who pried it out of a vampire’s cold, dead hands.”

“We call it a power crystal,” his brother added.

 _That’s not right,_ Sam wanted to say. It looks exactly like Jake’s crystal that he got from the Stanley Hotel, but that _can’t_ be right. Jake’s crystal was harmless, for _beginners_. This one was… vicious. They were different. They had to be.

“So, did you guys draw that sigil too?” Corey asked. He pointed over his shoulder.

Sam blinked. He looked back at the church, mind hazy. Too many thoughts jumbled in his head. If Jake’s crystal was the same as their crystal, then that would explain why it kept getting warmer every time they touched it. Every time _Sam_ touched it.

“Yeah,” the girl answered. “We just thought….”

Holy shit, what if Jake’s crystal had _demonic_ magic trapped inside? He stopped his eyes from widening in shock. That must’ve been why that fire started in Jake’s apartment! When Jake used the crystal to perform a simple spell, he had too much power. He lost control of it.

“I saw it in a book,” Roman’s brother said. “Our grandfather has a book called the Lesser Key of Solomon. It’s a collection of the seventy-two demon legions.”

“Wow,” Corey said with fake enthusiasm.

Now that Sam thought about it, Jake hadn’t used that crystal in a while. The last place he remembered seeing it was at the Witches Forest. Did he still have it? Sam really needed to check in with him about it later.

“I don’t know how much I believe in demons, honestly,” the girl admitted. “I’m not very religious.”

“Neither am I,” Sam said dryly, “but trust me. They’re real.”

The blue haired guy laughed. “Yeah,” he agreed, mostly to himself. Nobody commented, but they did give him weird looks.

“Don’t tell me you believe in everything surrounding the names too?” She raised an eyebrow. “Like, saying a name out loud can’t actually give something power.”

Sam matched her cocked eyebrow. “You believe in witches and vampires, but you don’t believe in demons?”

She shrugged. “Guess I’m one of those ‘see it to believe it’ people.”

“Well, maybe you could wait to ‘see it’ until after we’re gone,” Sam said. “I’d rather not get possessed today.”

“Demons don’t usually possess people,” the blue haired guy said. “They prefer messing with peoples’ heads and causing psychological damage rather than physical.”

For a long moment of silence, everybody stared at him. Roman turned to his brother. He asked, “Where the hell did he come from again?”

“Well it was nice meeting you guys, but I think we’re gonna explore this church, then head home.” Sam’s fingers hooked around Corey’s arm, and he began tugging him away from the group.

“Wait a second,” the blue haired guy called. He pushed to the front of the group and didn’t stop until he stood inches from Sam and Corey. He grabbed Sam’s left hand. Sam tried pulling away, but he only tightened his grip. “What’s this I see?” he hummed, twisting Sam’s hand to get a better look at his forearm.

“What?” Roman said.

“Let go of me,” Sam growled.

“Hey, get away from him,” Corey said. He stepped between the guy and Sam.

The guy smirked. “Sallos.” When he looked at Sam, his eyes glistened with curiosity and amusement. “Interesting.”

Sam’s entire body froze over. His heart skipped a beat. His throat dried. He reached past Corey to shove the guy’s shoulder. “Get the fuck away from me. Now!”

“Sallos?” Roman’s brother repeated. “That’s a demon in the book!”

“Corey!” Sam cried. He pried the guy’s grip off his wrist and moved back just as Corey pushed him away. Sam cradled his wrist to his chest. It _burned,_ like hot rocks were glued to his skin. How could he see Sam’s sigil? Who _was_ that guy? And _what_ was he, a demon? Had to be. Tears pricked Sam’s eyes. Fuck, what the hell?

“Are you the guy who imprisoned him all those years ago?” the guy asked. He tipped his chin back to look at Sam over Corey’s shoulder. “I haven’t heard from him in decades.”

“No,” Sam spat. “Fuck you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The guy laughed. “Dude, you know previously possessed people leave trails, right? Like scents; easy to track. You reek of leather.”

Suddenly, in the mess of accusations flying across the clearing, Corey trying to protect Sam, and Sam biting back the sting of a demonic touch, something exploded behind them. In one thundering eruption that rattled their eardrums, the church doors burst into pieces. Wooden debris rained from the sky; the force shredded the doors into splinters.

The world stilled. Sam knelt on the ground, frozen, arms covering his head. Pieces of wood bounced off his skin like tiny needles. There was a ringing in his ears. He lifted his chin to peek at Corey a few feet away, on his knees, mouth moving with a long string of curse words.

Sam dared a look over his shoulder. Slowly, he rose to his feet—the only human brave enough at that moment. He stared at the front of the church, now a messy cloud of thick dust. Nothing made a sound over there either. What the hell?

Then his hearing began to even out, and he could hear coughing. A hand cut through the cloud; an arm waved back and forth frantically. Wood and glass crackled beneath hesitant footsteps making their way out of the building.

They’d managed to wave away most of the thickness. Light shone through the debris, and Sam could finally see the person responsible.

His breath caught in his throat.

Colby squinted. He coughed into the crook over his arm pressed to his mouth. He looked at his feet as he carefully slid down the wood and stumbled to the ground.

“Holy shit Colby,” Maggie called as she stepped out of the church. “I didn’t think you’d destroy the whole fucking church.”

Colby laughed sheepishly. “My bad.” He took a deep breath once he reached open air. He lowered his arm and turned toward the group. He frowned at the strangers, and his gaze trailed over each person until he stopped on Sam. He froze; Sam stared at him with big eyes and a dropped jaw.

He could see it now, what Arthur was talking about. The difference between magicians and witches. Hailey was a magician. Marcus was a magician.

 _Colby_ was a magician.

Because he… Sam glanced at the church. Now that the dust had cleared, he could see the damage clearly. There was a clear ring around where the doors once stood, far surpassing the hinges Colby probably only meant to aim for. It stretched from the church to nearly the bottom of the belltower and curved into the sides of the windows previously flanking the doors. Perfect destruction created by his boyfriend. By Colby Brock.

“Sam!” Colby called. He jogged over and pulled Sam into a tight hug. “Hey, are you okay? I heard you yelling.” He pulled away and cupped Sam’s faee with his hands. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Colby, how did…” Sam couldn’t stop staring at the church. Since when did Colby have that much _power?_ Where did it come from?

Colby’s cheeks flushed. “Oh that, um… it was an accident. I didn’t mean to destroy so much.” He looked away guiltily.

Sam caught his chin. He forced Colby to look at him, and he smiled. Colby smiled back.

“Dude!” Corey yelled. “Dude, Colby! That was fucking insane!” He raced over and grabbed Colby’s shoulders. “Deadass, that whole thing felt like a fucking movie, what the shit.”

“I knew it!” Roman shouted. “I knew you guys were suspicious.” He recovered from his shock and stormed forward with the power crystal tight in his grip.

Colby nudged past Sam and Corey to take stance in front. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He grit his teeth with a harsh glare.

The blue haired guy remained in the middle, hands in his pockets, still watching the church curiously. Sam wondered what he was waiting on. Maybe there was some kind of power emitting from the church now that it was open. He wondered, were demons affected by churches?

Then, the guy grinned. “Maggie!” he called.

Corey frowned. Sam and Colby turned toward their friend as she walked away from the church. “Maggie?” they repeated.

She stopped short a few feet away. She only took one look at the guy before her face twisted into annoyance, and she rolled her eyes.

“Charlie,” she sighed. “I should’ve known you’d be a part of this.”

“What the hell, you know her?” Roman demanded.

Charlie turned to the strangers. "Yeah, surprise. She's like a frenemy of mine."

"Pushing it," she scoffed.

“Anyway, you guys should get going. You’re sorely outmatched now.”

“Roman, maybe we should,” the girl said. “That guy just… destroyed the church like it was nothing.”

Sam felt a bit of pride after hearing that. _Yeah he did,_ he wanted to say. _That’s my fucking boyfriend._

“How are we going to be hunters if we’re scared of the things we’re hunting?” Roman growled. He aimed the power crystal. “I know how to use this.”

“Then fucking use it,” Colby snapped. He then asked quietly over his shoulder, “What is that?”

“Power crystal,” Sam answered. “Stronger than Jake’s. Don’t underestimate it.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. He raised his hands in surrender and stepped out of the way. “Fine, have at it.”

“Charlie!” Maggie cried.

“What? I don’t know them.”

Sam reached for Colby’s hand. “Colby….”

Colby didn’t answer. He squeezed Sam’s hand, then he let go.

Roman clenched his jaw. _“Impetus!”_

Light burst out of the tip of the crystal and barreled toward them at a breathtaking speed. It burned against their faces almost as strong as Charlie’s touch on Sam’s skin. Their eyes watered immediately. Sam struggled to breathe. Corey had his arm in a death grip.

Colby dropped to the ground. He dug his fingers into the dirt. Sam heard him mutter, but he couldn’t make out his words. It didn’t sound like a real language. Sam was both chilled to the bone and in awe.

Inches from crashing and roasting them alive, the fireball attack slammed into a stone wall that appeared out of nowhere. It was wide enough to cover all three of them and stop the flames from brushing their arms as it dispersed over the sides. 

Sam pressed closer to Corey until the fire was gone, and he could see again. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Colby wasn’t there anymore; his chest heaved with panic. He peeked around the wall, and Corey followed suit.

Colby stood in the center of the battlefield, unfazed. “Was that the best you got?” he taunted. “Weak, man.”

“Roman, let’s _go,”_ his brother urged. “You’re not going to win against them!”

Roman hesitated. He looked like he wanted another round; Sam could tell the crystal burned in his hand. His face twisted in pain, but he was torn between running and fighting. Finally after a moment of internal battle, Roman begrudgingly lowered the crystal and turned his back on the supernatural.

He disappeared into the forest with the rest of his friends.

Colby turned to his own group, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm and sighing with relief. Sam raced to him and threw himself in his arms. They stumbled dangerously a few feet before Colby steadied them. He breathed a laugh.

“That was amazing!” Sam cried. “Holy—Babe, I can’t believe you just—I’m at a loss for words.” He shook his head. “That was incredible.” He pecked Colby’s lips. “And so fucking badass.” Another peck. “I’m so proud of you.” A kiss this time, accompanied by fingers running through Colby’s hair, and hands around his waist, and—

“Okay, okay, enough with the PDA,” Corey teased. He walked over only after the couple separated. He squeezed Colby’s shoulder. “I agree though, that was fucking insane. I didn’t know you could fight like that!”

“Sparring with Ruth pays off,” Colby laughed.

Maggie joined them next with Charlie a few feet behind. She beamed at him. “I can’t believe how far you’ve come, Colby. I know Sam already said it, but I have to stress it again: That was truly _badass.”_

Colby grinned. “Thanks, Maggie.”

Sam’s smile faltered when he saw Charlie. He shifted closer to Colby and met Charlie’s gaze.

“What?” Sam asked. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m just curious. You’re a curious guy.”

Colby scoffed. “And who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Charlie, didn’t you hear?” He rolled his eyes. “Charlie, the demon.”

He glanced toward the edge of the forest where an energy similar to his own simmered quietly, out of sight. Curious. 

They were all very… interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!! BAMF COLBY BROCK !!!!!


	15. salem || the psychic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corey connects with his psychic abilities on a trip into town; Marcus makes a deal.

When they returned to Maggie’s house, they found Arthur sitting on his porch with his laptop and an open book beside him. He had a pencil in his hand, tapping the eraser against his chin and reading something on the computer. Then he turned to his textbook, traced a few sentences with the pencil, and returned to his laptop to type in an answer. When the others approached, he was mumbling under his breath, “The fuck kind of question is that? … Oh.”

“How’s the test going?” Maggie asked with a smirk.

“Why the hell did you let me take a summer class?” he whined. 

“You wanted to be an overachiever and graduate a semester early.”

Charlie passed her and sat next to Arthur. “What a loser,” he said while reading over Arthur’s shoulder. “And why law, of all things? You could’ve done something cool. Like art.”

“I’m shit at art.”

Charlie laughed out loud. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” He looked at Maggie, then to Sam, Colby, and Corey. “I thought you didn’t want him around this weekend.”

“Is that what you said?” Charlie said. “Bitch.”

“Asshole,” Maggie replied like Charlie called her that all the time. “We found him in the forest working with _witch hunters.”_

“Ah, I wasn’t working with them.” Charlie waved off her accusation. “They said they were trying to scare people in the forest, and I was just in the mood to watch humans shit themselves. And if they happened to hazel a few witches, then…” He shrugged.

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “Are you guys okay? Maggie?”

Maggie smiled. “We’re fine. _Colby_ took care of them.”

Everybody turned to Colby, who hadn’t managed to quit smiling yet. The whole way back, he bounced with adrenaline. He replayed everything that went through his head to Sam, the doubts, the fears, and how he just _went for it,_ and he didn’t mean to explode the doors, _but it was pretty cool, right?_

His enthusiasm was contagious. Sam couldn’t fight a grin either; he was _thrilled_ for Colby. It felt like yesterday when he watched Colby successfully attempt the candle trick for the first time, and now he could explode doors and stop a fire attack in its tracks. He couldn’t believe how much he’d grown since February.

“Dude, nice,” Arthur nodded in approval. He reached a hand out, and he and Colby fist bumped.

“Thanks man,” Colby laughed.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Arthur said, glancing down at his test.

Maggie looked at the guys. “We can go into town today? There’ll be more open now. I love pretending to be interested in the psychics and mainstream witches because it’s all bullshit.” She and Arthur shared a laugh.

“Are there any actual psychics?” Corey asked.

“No—” Maggie said.

“Yeah—” Arthur answered.

They looked at each other.

“Madam Abreo…?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I don’t like her,” she said.

“She only doesn’t like her because Abroe yelled at her once,” Charlie explained with a grin. He looked at her. “Isn’t that right Mags?”

“One, don’t call me that. Two… what a grouchy old woman,” Maggie scoffed. “I just wanted to go in with Arthur.”

“You’re so protective,” Arthur whined. “I _can_ take care of myself you know.”

Maggie shared a look with Colby that made him chuckle.

“I see why people don’t like you guys, full of yourselves and everything.” Arthur shook his head at Sam. “Pretty sure we can handle ourselves against _you people.”_

“Sam can’t,” Corey laughed.

“Uhh, I did fine,” Sam defended.

“Cause you didn’t _do_ anything. Marcus did all the work.”

“Then he got himself kidnapped,” Colby added.

“No I didn’t!”

Charlie sighed. “Damn, now I kind of want to hear the story.”

“I went to a ritual at my coven,” Colby began, nodding at Maggie. “I told you about that—”

“Yeah.” She nodded with wide eyes. “That’s the closest satanic ritual I’ve heard of from witches. You west coasters are weird.”

“Ooh.” Charlie suddenly looked more interested.

“Then I messed it up ‘cause they were going to kill a girl, then I had to get away and everything,” Colby raised his hand carelessly, “and I ran out of energy using magic, so I passed out. For some reason, that made Sam come up with the idea to stay behind to like…?”

Sam sighed. “It _seemed_ like a good idea at the time. Colby was out of it, so he had to leave, and I figured Corey was the more freaked out ‘cause he was still new to the supernatural, so,” he shrugged. “There’s probably mental things to unpack there, but ahh, not important.”

“Just because you’ve dealt with a demon before doesn’t mean you’re qualified to handle stronger supernatural creatures,” Maggie muttered. “And that’s not directed at just you Sam.” She looked pointedly at Arthur.

Charlie snickered. “Yeah, Arthur talks to literally anything. Doesn’t matter if they could be dangerous or not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’ve had the Sight long enough to know who’s truly dangerous, who’s not, and when to stop talking to things. You shouldn’t underestimate people just because they don’t have magic.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He could feel the witches and demon staring at him. “I know what you mean.”

Arthur smiled at him. “Thanks, man. Hey, we normal people can visit Madam Abreo while they summon Satan,” he smirked at Maggie, “or whatever you witches do.”

Maggie laughed, and the air lightened immediately. Charlie seemed to relax too. “Maybe we’ll summon you a smarter demon,” she joked. “Charlie’s answered at least a few questions on your test, and I just know every one of them are wrong.”

Charlie looked up from the laptop. “Hey, have some faith—“

“In a demon.”

“—I’ve actually retained some knowledge about his boring studies. At least one of those _was_ right.”

Maggie breathed a laugh. “How much longer will your test be, babe?”

Arthur hummed. He pulled the laptop to him and scrolled for a second. “Oh, I just have one more question.” He typed something in. “Martial Law. Done.” He closed his laptop and gathered his things. “Let me put this inside, and we can go.”

Charlie tried following him in, but an invisible barrier kept him out. He searched the doorframe of broken sigils, then he touched the fresh symbol just above his head. He turned to Maggie and huffed.

Maggie ignored him. She turned back to the guys. “Sam, Colby, anything you two want to see in town?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess the touristy things. The Witch Museum?”

Colby nodded. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

Arthur stepped out of the house and locked the door behind him. “Let’s go,” he said, leading the way to their cars.

As they climbed into the rental, they heard Maggie arguing with Charlie over the front seat. After some back and forth, Charlie begrudgingly took the back seat. When his door shut, Maggie was left standing on the grass, smug and triumphant.

“So Corey, first time meeting a demon,” Sam said after they’d gotten in the car. “How are you feeling?”

“Isn’t the Shadowman a demon?” Corey said.

“… Second demon, how are you feeling?”

Corey shrugged. He stared at the car in front of them and shook his head. “He’s nicer than the Shadowman.”

“Yeah, but the Shadowman’s also an ass.”

“I still can’t believe we’ve met enough demons to compare them,” Colby said, shaking his head. He followed Arthur onto the road.

“Neither can I,” Sam agreed. “Ranking them, though: Sallos is at the top.”

Colby nodded. “Yes.”

“Then Charlie, then Sabnock.”

“Oh no, that guy was a dickhead,” Colby argued.

“But was he worse than the _Shadowman?”_ Corey asked.

“I don’t know. He was a bitch to get rid of though.”

“He never actually _did_ anything, right?” Sam said. “Like, he was trapped. He probably only yelled and stuff, right?”

“Yeah….”

“So, Sabnock is next. Last is the Shadowman.”

“Fuck the Shadowman.”

Colby shook his head. “I don’t know, I’d have to experience him to decide the last two for sure. Sabnock was fucking _half lion._ That’s terrifying.”

“The Shadowman doesn’t even have a body; he’s practically invisible, which means he could always be around and you wouldn’t even know,” Corey said.

“Yeah, but doesn’t that make him _less_ scary? If you can’t see him, you can’t be afraid of him!”

“Until he’s in your room at night, being _much darker_ than the rest of your room!”

“We sleep with the lights off, so we’d never seen him. Ever.”

Corey scoffed. “Whatever brother, Shadowman is at the bottom. Sam agrees with me.”

Sam pressed his lips into a smile when silence fell over the group because he knew they were looking to him for a final verdict. He hesitantly looked at Colby, and he laughed sheepishly.

“He’s right,” he admitted. When Colby started to argue, he added quickly, “Because he touched me! Anything that can touch me is automatically scarier.”

Colby sighed deeply. “…Fine. I _guess.”_

Sam and Corey laughed.

•••••••••

Downtown Salem had cobblestone walking roads with old storefronts flanking both sides. There were plenty of people out and traffic on the main road running straight through the town. They drove through the busiest part, right in front of the towering red brick church that housed the Witch Museum and a nine foot tall bronze statue of the city founder across from the museum. They found a parking spot around the corner, and after some words of encouragement, Colby managed to parallel park perfectly behind Arthur.

“Oh dude, nice parking,” Arthur complimented when they met on the sidewalk. “I’d rather walk a mile before parallel parking anywhere.”

Colby chuckled. “Me too, but Sam talked me into it.”

Sam smiled and took Colby’s hand. Arthur grabbed Maggie’s. Charlie turned to Corey. With a smirk, he wiggled his eyebrows and offered his hand.

Corey scoffed while his friends laughed behind him. “Sorry man, I’m not holding hands with a demon.”

Charlie dropped his hand. He frowned. “What do you have against demons? Sounds racist.”

“Oh, it’s a _whole_ story,” Sam answered. They started down the sidewalk.

“Uh oh,” Charlie laughed. “Who’d you piss off? Was it Sabnock?”

Behind Corey, Colby flinched. He shared a confused look with Sam, about to wonder why Charlie would say that name _of all things,_ but Sam shushed him with a soft squeeze on his arm.

“He’s a demon,” Sam reasoned quietly. “They probably all know each other.”

“Yeah, but why _that one—”_

“No,” Corey answered, oblivious to his friends’ concerns. “It was the Shadowman.”

“No way, my frat brother said he saw that guy too,” Arthur said.

“I haven’t crossed paths with him, but I have heard chatter lately,” Charlie said. “Apparently that guy’s missing. He’s like the one in charge of the shadow people, so they’re kind of looking for him.”

Neither Sam nor Corey responded. They refrained from even reacting, though in the back of their minds, they were torn between amusement and fear that they’d trapped the demon in Corey’s bedroom. Maybe they should check on that when they return home.

For the next hour, they wandered around the square, checking out the shops, pretending to be impressed by street magic performers (Maggie did, anyway). Sam bought an ice cream that he and Colby shared. Corey found a cool, silly pair of sunglasses with tiny witch hats on the corners of the frames. Maggie purchased a rose quartz mixing bowl for her altar.

Eventually, Corey spotted signs pointing to local psychics. He dragged Sam with him, and Arthur followed. When Maggie looked back, she noticed they were gone. “Oh, looks like Abroe got them,” she said. She, Colby, and Charlie watched the other half of their group disappear into a shop.

“Do you want to chase after them, so you can hold his hand and protect him from the big scary woman?” Charlie teased.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “No. They can call when they’re finished; let’s keep going.”

“Hey, Charlie?” Colby said.

“What?”

“Uh…” Charlie raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s summoner’s magic? How does it work?”

Maggie frowned. “Summoner’s magic?”

“It’s pretty simple.” Charlie shrugged. “Every demon has their own sigil. They can give that sigil along with a piece of their energy to a human if they’re strong enough to take it.”

“Why would a demon want to share their power with a human?”

“Different reasons depending on the demon. If a human wants to use the demon to like, I don’t know, kill someone—”

Maggie elbowed him after a few people looked at them weirdly.

Charlie ignored her. “—they just have to touch the sigil and say their name to summon them.”

“Their name, like….”

“The demon’s name. We only consider the humans who know our real name.”

“So, is Arthur—does he have—?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah.” He smirked. “Only cause I knew it’d freak Maggie out.”  
She frowned. “He has a—That’s the thing on his chest?”

“You didn’t know?”

She stopped and stared at him. “No,” she said softly. “Now that I think about it, I should've. He never wanted to talk about it though, and I don’t know your real name.”

His eyebrows furrowed for half a second before his face fell blank again. “Huh,” he said and moved on. Maggie and Colby followed; they struck up a new conversation about seasonal festivals or something. Suddenly, a chill drove up Charlie’s spine. He came to a halt and turned toward the source.

Maggie stopped a second too late. She ran into his chest and whined, “What?”

Charlie glanced toward Madam Abroe’s then to the other side of the street. He hummed and shook his head. His gaze fell on Maggie’s mildly annoyed face, and he smirked. “Am I _annoying_ you?”

“Is there something here to worry about?”

“Hmm maybe. Maybe not.”

Colby was beginning to see how this guy could be irritating. Everything he said seemed to be a tactic to get on her nerves.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said to Colby. They moved past him.

Charlie did a quick sweep across the square before turning to catch up.

•••••••••

Madam Abroe’s shop had shelves lining the walls and clothed table tops placed throughout. The shelves held knick knacks, candles, herbs, bottles of holy water, and other small witchy objects. On the tables was larger merchandise: crystals of all shapes and sizes, crystal balls, small drums and bongos, and voodoo dolls. Dozens of wooden wind chimes hung from the ceiling. They clattered with wind blowing in from the front door.

“Hello?” Arthur called. “Madam Abroe?”

A short woman with black hair and olive skin pushed velvet curtains to the side of a doorway at the back of the room. Hooks scraped across a metal bar holding the curtains up, catching the boys’ attention. She strolled into the shop wearing a silk red dress and moon jewelry. She stopped by a glass display case next to the cash register and narrowed her eyes at them.

“Are you looking to shop, or do you want a reading?” she asked.

As they approached, Sam noticed that one of her eyes was foggier than the other. Instead of brown to match her left, her right had a dull gray color and a hazy pupil. It looked like glass.

“A reading,” Corey answered hesitantly. “I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then come,” she said, turning on her heel and strutting back through the door she came out of. She waved her hand over her shoulder, signalling for them to follow.

Sam, Arthur, and Corey shared a look before following her through the doorway. The back room wasn’t very big; a round table with a blue velvet cloth sat in the center, and there were antique chairs placed around it. At the center of the table sat a large crystal ball propped up by a dark wooden stand. Madam Abroe definitely played up to the stereotype of a psychic.

“I didn’t know crystal balls actually worked,” Sam said.

Abroe shrugged. “It’s mostly a prop for the tourists. They’ll believe anything. Now, what can I really do for you?” she asked while taking a seat across from them.

Arthur and Sam looked back at Corey. “Uh,” he said, sitting in a chair closest to him, “I’d like some advice on being a psychic.”

“Advice? Just meditate a lot and focus on energies when you walk into a room. Also, visit cemeteries. Try connecting with people.” She rolled her eyes. “They never shut up there.”

Arthur frowned. “That’s it?”

“Don’t you young people have the Internet? Look it up.”

“Oh well,” Corey glanced back at Sam, “I was—I just figured learning face-to-face would be best.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine, I have one piece of advice.” She stood. “Trade me places. You two wait outside.” She pointed at Sam and Arthur.

“What?” Sam said.

“We don’t need easy access.”

“What does that mean?” Arthur said.

Abroe sighed. She leaned against the table and crossed her arms. “Spirits often flock to the easiest communication points, which are seers. But you,” she turned to Corey, “need to make sure they’re drawn to you instead. Having them leave makes it easier.”

Arthur and Sam shared a confused look. Reluctantly, they muttered their compliance and headed for the door. On their way out, they voiced their confusion as well as ideas to spend the time.

“I’ll text Colby,” Corey heard Sam say.

“Or we can go into this store that Maggie hates,” Arthur suggested.

Sam laughed. “Sure, okay.”

For the next ten minutes, Corey tried multiple times contacting a spirit. He was getting frustrated quickly. Once the front door shut, whatever energy he may’ve felt in the shop left too. Madam Abroe insisted he keep going, though.

“I think whatever spirit you sensed left with Sam,” he sighed. “There’s a shadow person attached to him.”

“Then call her _back,”_ she ordered. “If she’s haunting him, then that means she has something to say. Give her a _voice.”_

Corey nodded. “Okay, okay.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I want to speak with Kate,” he ordered. “You were just in here with my friend Sam. Come back. I know you have something to say, so use me as a vessel. Use me as a voice.”

She hummed. “Not bad.”

A cool breeze blew through the shop. The wind chimes clattered in the front room. Goosebumps rose across Corey’s arms.

He inhaled deeply. “Kate if you’re here with us, please give us a sign.”

The bells above the front door rang. Corey jolted, and his eyes snapped open. He almost let go of her hands, but Abroe held on.

“Don’t be scared,” she said. “That was just Kate telling us she’s here. You asked her for a sign, and she gave one. Now is the time to keep going, not back out.”

Corey nodded slowly, and though he could feel his arms begin to tremble, he closed his eyes again. “Kate,” he said, “is that really your name?”

_Yes._

His inner voice answered for him. That’s probably because he already knew her name. He called her that three times already; of course it’s her name.

“Did you receive an answer?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Whatever it was, she used your mind to project that answer. That’s why it seems like you thought of it yourself. Keep going.”

Ooookay…

“Kate… are you the reason Sam has the Sight?”

_Yes._

Oh _shit._ More chills; this was getting creepy.

“Why did you give him the Sight?”

_Help._

“Help? You need help?”

_Yes._

“Wait, so his Sight… you just needed his help? It wasn’t a punishment?”

_No._

His eyes snapped open. At the front, he could see Sam outside, talking and laughing, leaning into Colby. He and Arthur were showing off plastic wands they bought from a nearby shop, pretending to cast spells like real wizards. And all this time… Sam thought he was being _punished._

“What do you need help with?” he asked carefully. He didn’t close his eyes again. Instead, he searched the room. He wondered if he could see her somewhere, maybe in a dark corner or lingering along the velvet curtain dividing the back from the front. There was a shape behind Madam Abroe. It could be her own shadow from the light that Corey didn’t notice before, or it could be Kate, finally revealing herself.

_Kansas._

Corey frowned. “Kansas?”

Charlie suddenly knocked on the door, startling both Corey and Madam Abroe. Where did _he_ come from?

Abroe glared over her shoulder. “Damn witches,” she muttered.

“Actually… yeah.”

“Let’s wrap this up then. Thank her for the session, and say goodbye.”

Corey nodded. “Okay.”

Five minutes later, he stepped outside. Charlie, Colby, and Maggie had met up with Arthur and Sam. Their conversation faded as they got up to leave.

Sam asked him, “How’d it go? What happened?”

“Went fine; I’ll tell you later.” Corey reached into his own shopping bag. “Look what I got.” He revealed a small clear bottle with a cross on the front. “Travel size holy water! She gave me a five-for-four special.”

Charlie moved to the other side of Maggie, furthest from Corey. “Aha,” he said nervously, “stay away from me with that stuff.”

“We could fill water guns with this,” Colby suggested.

 _“Good_ thinking!” Maggie said.

“Stop giving her ideas,” Charlie whined. Someone walked toward them, and he straightened quickly, kind of like a switch was flipped.

“Oh my god hey,” the girl said. She was young and pretty with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was among the shortest of the group; Maggie rivaled her height. For some reason, this made Charlie snicker under his breath. “You’re Sam and Colby! Can I get a picture?”

While Corey stepped out of the way of the selfie, he overheard Arthur ask Charlie, “What’s up with you?”

“Dude, that girl’s been following us all day,” Charlie answered.

“Thanks so much!” she said. “Enjoy the rest of your trip guys.”

When she walked away, Maggie asked, “Does that happen a lot?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, a bit.”

Charlie met Corey’s curious gaze, and Corey looked away immediately.

••••••••

The annoying thing about vampires was that they’re persistent. And arrogant. If they’re going to die, they don’t want it to be by the hand of a human. They don’t want to be killed by one of their own, though. Honestly, they’d rather just kill than be killed, and unfortunately, Marcus had to relate.

He wouldn’t ever admit to agreeing with a vampire, especially not that day, when he opened his front door and saw this woman he’d only seen once before, standing on his doorstep with her abdomen bleeding out and her shirt stained with blood.

“Oh good,” he said. “Someone finally shot you.”

He had a knife already in his hand from chopping onions for dinner. How easy it would be to just carve out her heart, then and there, and leave her in the yard to die. Something in the back of his mind told him to. It was the dark voice he always repressed most of the time, but right now, that sounded like a great suggestion.

“San Diego,” she said, spluttering blood across the door frame. His nose scrunched in disgust, and he stepped out of the splash zone. “Damn witches. One was a hunter, she—”

“I honestly couldn’t care less.” He rolled his eyes. “Tell me what the fuck you want or leave while I’m still giving you the option.”

Her name was Belladonna. Marcus theorized that her real name was Isabella, but she adopted Belladonna after being turned because it had a more sinister ring to it. The only thing she accomplished with both her name and her look was a creepy-ass reputation. Pale pink hair did _not_ go with sickly white skin _or_ bright red eyes.

“I was hoping you’d heal me after feeling pressured over the chances of a neighbor finding a woman bleeding out on your porch,” she said dryly. The glare in her piercing red eyes didn’t sell her story. She needed help, but she wasn’t hoping for anything. She loathed turning to him in the first place.

Marcus looked her over thoughtfully. No, he wasn’t worried about the neighbors. Humans were easy to take care of: either a memory wiping spell, or a quick slice to the neck. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. But as irritating as this woman may be, she was still a vampire. And vampires were useful.

“Fine,” he decided. He stepped aside and waved her in. She stepped through the door hesitantly. Marcus rolled his eyes at her speed. He slammed the door shut behind her and headed for the living room. “What were you doing in San Diego?”

“I live there.”

“No you don’t.” He turned on his heel and raised an eyebrow. “You’re from Julian, and you’ve never moved anywhere else. So, again: What were you doing in San Diego?”

“I heard our pal Tyler was seen feeding in the area, which I thought was odd since you two bought a house together,” she teased.

“Yes, we’re happily in love.” He rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t answer my question. I didn’t think you’d want his sloppy seconds.”

“Maybe I just wanted a taste of that big city blood, you know? So, I went to the best source: the witch coven. Have you ever tasted the blood of a witch? It’s sweet, _much_ sweeter than humans. It’s like a hot chocolate with four shots of espresso.” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she hummed dreamily.

He made a face. “You’re making this weird.” He shook his head. “You definitely deserved getting shot.”

A knock made them freeze. Marcus looked between the front door and the woman. His jaw clenched. “If this is a trap,” he growled, “I swear—”

_Knock, knock, knock_

She smirked at him. “Persistent,” she said. Then she coughed, and blood splattered across the floor. Across his _shoes._ Okay, he was definitely going to kill her.

Marcus dragged her into the bathroom. He shoved her inside and spat, _“Stabit.”_ She froze a few steps into the room, inches from the sink and mirror. She can see her reflection, by the way. That was kind of a let down when Marcus met his first vampire, and it made them harder to track. It was something about how mirrors are lined with something different than they were centuries ago? He didn’t know the science behind it.

When Marcus opened the door, he froze again. For the second time that day:—in a matter of ten minutes, what the fuck?—of all the people he might’ve expected to be on his doorstep, it wasn’t this guy.

He was tall and had tanned skin, like every other guy in California apparently. He had longer black hair than the last time they met, it touched his earlobes and swished to the side atop his head in a style most men his age weren’t even trying to pull off. He had facial hair too: a perv mustache.

“You look like a pedophile with that stache,” Marcus said boredly. Thankfully, being exiled meant he didn’t have to fake compliment the High Priest of the Witches just to be on his good side. He always hated that rule; Rodrick was never someone Marcus wanted to impress anyway. He was surprisingly easy to manipulate.

Rodrick frowned. “My wife likes it.”

“She’s lying.”

“You could be stripped of your magic for those rude comments.”

Marcus smiled. “Well, lucky for me you dickheads exiled me. Besides, you wouldn’t do that anyways. Clearly if you’ve come all the way out here to see me, you need something.”

Rodrick scowled. “May we speak inside?” He tried stepping past, but Marcus blocked the doorway.

“Nah, I don’t want witches in my home.”

“You’re a witch.”

“I’m also a seer,” Marcus argued. His smile faltered. “And I know how your people treat mine.”

“We’re only wary because of _you—!”_ Rodrick sighed deeply. “I didn’t come out here to argue. There have been numerous attacks on witches by supernatural creatures in the last few months, more than there’s ever been.”

“You know witches fall into the supernatural category, right? Or, wait,” Marcus laughed, “you’re still teaching everyone that witches and demons are the only supernatural creatures in the world, aren’t you? God, how dumb do you think people are? Not even the rest of the country believes that. Why’re you so focused on controlling California?”

Rodrick ignored him. “Look, you’re the only one with the most experience with those other creatures. What do you want, a trade? Resources? They’re yours.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” Marcus scoffed. “Actually, I’ve done better on my own than I ever did with you people and your restrictions.”

“You sound like Casey.”

“Yeah. Why do you think we were best friends?”

Rodrick’s face softened. “Marcus, despite our differences and whatever happened… I _am_ sorry about Casey. I know he was your last friend in the coven—”

“I don’t care about the fucking coven!” Marcus growled. “Don’t flatter yourself; I don’t give a shit about any of you. Especially not that bitch of a High Priestess, the one who took his place.”

An idea struck him. He bit back a smile.

“I’ll take care of the attacks,” Marcus agreed.

Rodrick blinked. “You will?”

“On one condition.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “Bring me Colby Brock. No questions asked.”

“What? Why do you want—”

“No. Questions. Asked.”

Rodrick swallowed thickly. Surprisingly, he wasn’t easily convinced this time. Marcus hummed thoughtfully.

“Don’t tell me—why are you hesitating?” Marcus said. “It’s one person for the price of everyone. You don’t even know Colby; didn’t you just put him on trial in March?” He scoffed. “I figured he’d be disposable to you.”

“He’s become a good friend to both Hailey and Ruth at the Coven of Los Angeles,” Rodrick argued. “And from what I understand, he’s _excelling_ in his studies—”

“Then I guess we both know what happens next, huh?” Marcus said. “Whatever.” He sighed. “We’re just gonna have to do this the hard way.” Rodrick was in the middle of questioning him when Marcus stepped forward and grabbed his hand in a tight grip. Rodrick froze. Marcus snaked his other hand across Rodrick’s waistband and down his thigh.

“What the hell do you think you’re—”

 _“Facio,”_ Marcus whispered. He pulled away with a smirk.

Rodrick’s face drained of color. He twisted and wiggled his torso and arms, but his legs didn’t move with him. Everything beneath his hips was completely frozen.

“What did—” His face hardened. “Marcus, what did you do?”

“Paralyzing spell,” Marcus answered. “Figured it out on my own. Now, I have a vampire in the back. She’s wounded, and you know how vampires are,” he shrugged, “needing blood to survive and everything. She has a weird thing for magical blood too, so I _could_ just let her eat your heart out.” He snickered. “I’ll tell the community that it was… an unfortunate accident.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Do you seriously want to call me on that?”

Rodrick’s chest heaved heavily. His eyes darted frantically between Marcus and the dark hallway ahead of him. Marcus could see him start to sweat, and he had to laugh. The Leader of Everything Magic in California, scared of the unknown. Scared of Marcus’ threat. How could he _not_ laugh?

“Fine,” Rodrick caved. “Fine, deal.”

“Colby Brock?”

“Yes, okay! Just don’t—”

Marcus grinned. “You’re not about to _beg for your life,_ are you Rodie? Aren’t you supposed to be all powerful and whatever?”

Rodrick scoffed. He didn’t answer.

“Fine.” Marcus released him from the spell. Rodrick’s shoulders slumped with relief. He stumbled forward and nearly fell had he not caught himself on the door frame—Marcus stepped out of the way. He hoped to watch the man fall on his face.

Once Rodrick regained his balance, he glared at Marcus. “How do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. He turned and walked back into his house. “Don’t come in here,” he called over his shoulder.

He returned a minute later with Belladonna. Her legs worked fine, but the upper half of her body remained frozen. She glared daggers into the side of his head. Blood poured from her side and splattered across the floor as they walked.

“Shot her with a mercury laced bullet,” Marcus explained, shoving her into Rodrick’s arms. “She’s dying, but slowly. I don’t know what you guys do with supernatural creatures you catch, and I don’t really care. Just make sure you take care of her.”

He didn’t know much about her, but Tyler did. The first time they met her at a gas station in LA was the first time Tyler ever spoke about how he was turned. Even then, there wasn’t much of a story. The only thing he admitted to was that she was the cause, and Tyler hated her for it. That meant Marcus hated her too.

He smirked and waved goodbye to her as Rodrick dragged her down the stairs. “Be in touch, Rodie,” he called.

Rodrick glared at Marcus. Though, he reluctantly agreed, “Yeah, okay.”

Marcus hummed happily as he kicked the door shut behind him. There, he got rid of that bitch finally, and he was getting something he wanted. A win-win.

He scowled at the blood on the floor. He needed to clean that before Tyler got home. With a sigh, he headed for the kitchen.


	16. salem || colby vs maggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their last day in Salem, Maggie challenges Colby to a duel, and Charlie shares important information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is a mega chapter to wrap up the Salem arc! I really didn't plan for it to be this long, but I felt Charlie, Maggie, and Arthur deserved a proper send off—even if they might show up later in the story *shrugs*
> 
> TW: panic and anxiety

“Brotherrrr,” Jake greeted with a grin. Only his face from his nose up showed on the screen.

A second later, Reggie joined the call. He wasn’t in the frame, but his ceiling fan was. In the background, he called, “Hey.”

Sam waved at his phone. “Hey guys.”

Hailey joined next. She stood at her counter with sandwich ingredients in front of her. Her makeup was done, and she wore a blue blazer. “Hello,” she said. She picked up a piece of bread and a knife with peanut butter on it. “How’s Salem?”

Sam sighed deeply. “It’s… really been something.” He stepped out the back door and held it open for Corey.

“Heey!” Corey said. He poked his head over Sam’s shoulder and waved at the camera. “How’s it going?”

“Fine; I just returned from hopefully my last chairmen interview,” Hailey answered.

“What kind of sandwich are you making?” Jake asked. “And can you make me one too?”

She laughed. “Yeah, come over.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Reggie picked up his phone. His camera blurred for a second before he appeared on the couch, brushing crumbs off his shirt. “You guys enjoy your lame sandwiches,” he teased. “I just had the greatest cookie ever.”

Sam nodded at Charlie as they sat on the grass next to the porch. Across the yard, Arthur spoke with Colby. Maggie was busy walking the perimeter of the property and reciting an incantation. He still wasn’t sure what exactly it did.

“Where’s Colby?” Hailey asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to FaceTime this,” Charlie scoffed. “Lame.”

“Hey, they’re our friends. And they’re all in on the supernatural stuff, so,” Sam shrugged, “I figured they’d want to watch too.”

“Watch what?” Jake asked. His voice echoed in both his frame and Hailey’s. A door shut in the background. He entered Hailey’s picture for a split second on his way to the couch. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Colby and his friend Maggie are about to duel or something,” Corey explained.

“Dude. Sick,” Reggie said.

“Are we missing anything cool back home?” Corey asked.

“I shot a vampire, but other than that,” Reggie shrugged, “nah.”

Charlie made a face. “You’re friends with a hunter? Weird.”

Sam frowned. “No—”

“They are now!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “It’s been like three days, get over it.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t shoot the vampire.”

“Psh. No.”

Maggie returned to the porch. Charlie handed her a water bottle. “Thanks,” she breathed. Louder, she announced, “The property’s enchanted, so to the rest of the world, we aren’t here. Not even witches can see inside the glamor. In other words,” she pointed at Colby and grinned, “let’s do this.”

Arthur kissed Maggie’s temple when they passed. Then, Maggie met Colby in the center of the yard. They exchanged a few words before walking to their end of the yard.

Sam flipped his camera around. “You got this, babe!” he called.

“Woo, go Colby!” Corey shouted.

Charlie raised a glass of wine. “Don’t suck, Maggie!”

She flipped him off.

“Love the support,” Reggie joked. "Really encouraging."

Arthur stood between them on the battlefield. With his hands clasped in front of him, he announced, “We’re gonna have a clean fight here today, okay? Best two out of three wins. The match goes to you only if your opponent yields. You win the whole thing if your opponent passes out, since you people have a bad habit of doing that.” He looked pointedly at each witch as he walked backward toward the porch. “And I know this goes without saying, but: This is a friendly sparring match; you’re not trying to kill each other, and please, keep your magic away from _us.”_

“Aw Charlie can handle it, can’t he?” Maggie teased.

“Just cause I can doesn’t mean I want to,” Charlie replied.

“Alright witches!” Arthur raised his hand. “On your mark, get set… go!” He sliced his hand through the air.

Maggie struck first with a rock wall that rose from the ground and barreled toward Colby at breakneck speed. He didn’t have a chance to process it; his body moved faster than his brain, and he dove out of the way just in time. The wall collided with the invisible barrier and exploded into a million pieces.

As soon as Colby landed, he raised his arm to shield his face from the debris. Then his hands fell to his ankle; his foot caught the edge of the wall as he dodged. Thankfully, there were only scrapes and a few drops of blood. There’d be a nasty bruise later.

He stared at the pile of rock at the edge of the property. Voices drew his attention.

Behind him, Maggie called, “You okay?” She laughed. “Hope you’re not bested by some dirt.”

Their neighbors had a fire going. They were talking and laughing, completely unaware of the magic only a few feet away. Colby’s fingers twitched. The fire jerked suddenly, then it swayed with the small wave of his hand. He grinned.

Colby climbed to his feet. He brushed dust off his shirt and carefully leaned on his injured foot. It stung. Not unbearable, though.

“Damn, no warning,” he laughed.

“He said go!” Maggie cried. She was smiling too. “Are you okay, though? Arthur won’t let us continue unless you say yes.”

Arthur nodded from the sideline. “She’s right; we can’t go to the hospital.” He grinned. “This would be hard to explain.”

Colby pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Then he faked a wince and pretended to check his ankle.

“Colby—?" she said.

He thrust his hand at her. The neighbors yelled with surprise. Scalding heat bubbled in his shoulder. It shot through his arm like a firework exploding. A serpent of flames surged past him. It coiled in the air then arched, aimed straight for her. A direct hit would be dangerous. Maybe even deadly. He didn’t have time to think about it.

Maggie stumbled back. She raised her hands quickly and shouted, _“Ventus!”_ The serpent snake fell into a powerful wind tunnel. Her magic swallowed his up and spit it out in pieces.

Silence fell over the yard. She crossed her arms, fighting to keep her face neutral.

“Well damn,” she said. "That was dangerous.” Not angry; maybe impressed.

“Magic’s dangerous,” he replied. He shifted his weight. Guilt stirred in his stomach. If she hadn’t acted quickly, who knows what would’ve happened? And the others on the porch… he needed to be more careful with—

 _No._ He shook his head. He couldn’t afford to think so much.

Colby dropped to the ground. His fingers dug into the dirt. He cast, _“Arma pretram.”_ The ground trembled. The grass crumbled and split around her. Two rugged hands sprouted from the earth. Fingers curled over her like talons.

 _Her arms—!_ He pictured it in his head. His magic followed: The hands latched around Maggie’s wrists. She struggled, digging at the ground, thrashing her arms, muttering one spell after another to no avail. He could see the panic in her eyes. She couldn’t calm herself down long enough to focus her magic.

Fear disorients the mind.

There wasn’t a counterattack. Maggie knelt on the ground, breathing hard. Her wrists were still bound. “Yield,” she said. “Let go of my arms. My nose itches.”

Colby released the spell. Arthur rushed into the yard and helped her up. Colby shifted his weight and rubbed his neck. Was that too much? Maybe he needed to dial it back. This was a friendly fight, after all. Then again… Ruth never really held back when they sparred.

He looked up at the porch sheepishly. Corey and Charlie were talking at the back of the table. Sam was focused on him, though. His eyes were wide, shining with excitement and awe. When he noticed Colby watching, he grinned. Colby’s chest loosened; he winked in return.

Arthur kissed Maggie’s forehead. Then they fist bumped, she smiled weakly, and he returned to the sideline.

“First point goes to Colby,” he announced. “And after all of that… I’m joining the safety of the porch.” He waved his hand over his shoulder as he turned. “Continue.”

“Was that too much?” Colby asked. “That felt like it was too much.”

She shook her head. “Nah, not too much.” Something was different, though. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Fine.” Maggie cracked a smile. It was half-assed. Colby looked up at Arthur with uncertainty. “Don’t think you’re gonna win that easily, though.”

He grinned despite the uneasiness beginning to set in. “Bring it.”

Maggie knelt to the ground and whispered a spell. Her eyes raked across the empty space between them. Something happened; he felt the earth shift. But he couldn’t see anything.

Frowning, Colby stepped forward. “What did you just—”

Something cold and slimy ran across his leg. Repulsed, he tried jerking his foot back, but—Oh, oh, _oh,_ his foot was _stuck._ He looked down in alarm. Sinking—he was sinking! Into the ground!

Surprised, he shouted, “Ah!” The grass had melted away into a pool of gurgling dirt that moved like pudding.

His heart stopped.

_Quicksand._

On the porch, Sam jumped to his feet. He shoved his phone in Corey’s hands and turned to Arthur. “That’s too far,” he said. “Stop it.”

Arthur frowned. “What? Why?”

“Calm down dude,” Charlie said. “It’s just quicksand. It won’t kill him.”

Sam shook his head. He pushed past his chair and raced down the steps. “Maggie!” he shouted.

“Whoa, whoa!” Arthur yelled. He chased after Sam. “You can’t just run out in the middle of a magic duel. It’s dangerous!”

The quicksand was up to Colby’s knees. He searched frantically for an escape, but he couldn’t think straight. He was trapped. Again. Struggling made it worse. His chest heaved. _Breathe, breathe,_ he reminded himself. _Fucking breathe, dammit! Breathe while you still can because—because once it reaches your chest—… you won’t be able to—_

Sam struggled against Arthur’s hold on his arms. “Maggie!” he growled. “I _know_ you know the story. Let him go!”

“Sam, they’re friends!” Arthur reassured. “They’re friends, and this is just a practice fight. She won’t hurt him!”

“She already is!”

His waist. It’s up to his waist, _oh god—_

At least his hands were free. That was different than last time; when he began to sink, he leveled his arms with his shoulders. He wasn’t _completely_ trapped yet.

… Which meant he could still do something.

He looked around for an out. _Okay,_ he thought. _Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths. Deep… breaths. Calm down. At least your opponent isn’t trying to kill you this time. She’s just waiting for me to yield; she isn’t trying to actually hurt me._

_She isn’t going to hurt me._

Colby’s fingers swept across the surface of the sand. It’s soft, like the kind at the beach that tickled his toes. It’s not at all sharp and rugged like Casey’s attacks. There wasn’t a pressure on his body like before. He could breathe easier. He _could_ breathe easier. He tried; he did.

He had an idea.

“Colby!” Sam cried. He broke free of Arthur and stormed toward him. Arthur cut him off quickly, jumping in front of him and shoving him back. “Move,” he hissed.

Arthur sighed. “Sam, I—”

Suddenly, the ground shuddered and groaned with a new spell. Sam saw it over Arthur’s shoulder: rocky spikes piercing through the ground in a line across the yard. Coming straight for _them._

“Look out!” he shouted. He threw an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. Just as they scrambled away, a spike shot out of the ground, right where Arthur once stood.

Colby looked over. He saw Arthur and Sam on the ground, away from the battle. Safe.

On the porch, he spotted Charlie and Corey on their feet. One was shocked. The other’s eyes were narrowed at him in a chilling glare. Colby was too hyper-focused to process any of it.

He dragged his fingers off the solid ground and into the quicksand. _“Solidum,”_ he said, running his hand around the outer edge. The slimy liquid hardened into solid rock in seconds. He repeated the spell around the rest of the pit.

Carefully, he turned and pressed his hands against the now solid surface. He pushed himself up slowly; the quicksand fought against him. It pulled him back down. 

He grit his teeth. This needed to _work._ He had to get out… He had to know that he _could_ get out.

Colby reached for the grass. He clawed into the dirt, and Mother Nature responded with rocks sprouting to his aid. He grabbed hold of one, then another. He repeated this until he could move his legs again. The quicksand gurgled behind him. He looked back.

He lay on the ground, covered in wet sand. 

Free.

_He did it._

Maggie destroyed the spikes with a powerful gust of wind that blew them into pieces. The second they were gone, Sam raced to Colby’s side. He threw his arms around Colby and shouldered his weight as Colby swayed to one side.

“Got you,” Sam breathed. He hugged Colby tighter and whispered against his hair, “I got you.”

“I’m okay,” Colby said. He lifted his head and smiled down at Sam.

“Yeah, sure.”

Colby snickered.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie called. Colby looked at her over Sam’s shoulder. Her eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry, I—”

Arthur reached for her, but she pushed him away. She shook her head and took off inside. Arthur followed.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Sam said. “Think we all need a break after that one.”

Colby only nodded.

••••••••••

“We’re coming back tonight,” Sam said. He had his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder while he packed his suitcase. They weren’t leaving for another few hours, but Colby wasn’t talking much, and it needed to be done anyways. “Yes, tomorrow still works. Eleven, right?” He glanced over Colby, who lay asleep at the other side of the bed. He wore different clothes from earlier. As soon as he came in from his shower, he fell asleep. Sam didn’t want to bother him, so he set to packing for the both of them.

When Sam returned from the bathroom with their toothbrushes, Colby jerked awake. He sat upright in bed. His shoulders bounced with frantic breaths; he ran his hands through his hair.

Sam crawled into bed next to him. “Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. You’re okay.” He hugged Colby close and raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe. You’re safe, love.” Sam kissed his brow, then his cheek. He rested his forehead against Colby’s temple. “I’m here,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Colby said quietly.

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“The spikes,” he explained. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

Sam’s fingers caressed Colby’s cheek. He forced his eyes to him. “You didn’t scare me,” he admitted. His thumb dragged across Colby’s skin. “I was only worried about you. And poor Arthur was just worried about me, I think.” He chuckled sheepishly. “You didn’t scare him, though. I promise.”

“Charlie was pissed.”

Sam shook his head. “He’s just protective of them. Can you tell me what happened out there?” Sam hesitantly. “With the quicksand?”

Colby took a deep breath and pulled away a bit. Sam let him, though he took Colby’s hands into his own.

“The second she got my feet and I couldn’t move, it—I just—” Colby looked away and ran a hand through his hair. “I completely shut down.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said. “You’re not going to be totally okay all at once.” He rubbed Colby’s arm. When Colby didn’t continue, he did, “You did amazing today though.”

Colby looked back at him. "Yeah?"

Sam smiled. “Oh yeah. You handled it _so well,_ sweetheart. The second I saw the quicksand, I thought the worst, but you proved me wrong. I think you proved yourself wrong too.”

Colby didn’t reply, but he leaned into Sam. He melted into the warm, comforting arms immediately wrapping around him.

“I forgot to tell you this yesterday,” Sam said against Colby’s hair, “but I’m really proud of you. I can’t believe how far you’ve come since we moved out of the old house, and it’s only been a few months.”

“I think I just did what I had to.”

“No, that’s not the only reason.” Sam shook his head, sure of himself. “Do you remember when you were questioning whether you should keep practicing or not?”

Colby chuckled lowly. “Yeah, back when this was just _our_ secret. When we thought Casey and Hailey were only _weird_ neighbors.” He nuzzled into the crook of Sam’s neck and inhaled his scent; he smelled like pine. “Simpler times,” he muttered.

Sam hummed. “Yeah, and you decided to keep practicing because you _wanted_ to.”

“You talked me into it.”

“Nuh uh, admit it: you love magic. Even with all of the shit that’s come with it, you love it. I know you do. I can tell every time you cast a spell. I saw you yesterday after those hunters left. I saw how happy you were. You love it, Colby.”

Colby smiled against Sam’s skin. It tickled; Sam laughed. Colby pushed up to kiss Sam’s cheek, then his lips.

“Love you more,” he mumbled and kissed him again.

Sam grinned. “I love you too. C’mere.” He grabbed Colby’s face and pressed forward until their lips connected again.

Colby’s hand pressed into Sam’s back, and he pulled him closer. They dissolved into a mess of giggles and hair pulling and lip nibbling, so quickly lost in their own world that they didn’t hear the door creak open, or Colby’s name called through the room.

Sam opened an eye just as Colby began a trail of kisses down his neck. He froze when he saw someone quickly ducking out of the room.

“Sorry,” she called, laughing. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The boys untangled quickly. They broke apart with one last lingering kiss to the lips. When Maggie peeked around the corner again, Sam was rolling off the bed.

“Clear,” Sam joked. He bent down to kiss Colby’s hair, a temporary farewell. “I’m gonna go see what the guys are doing.”

Maggie smirked at him as he passed. Neither mentioned how red the other was. The door shut behind him, and he headed downstairs.

He found Corey, Charlie, and Arthur on the back porch. They were playing on their phones. Sam took a seat next to Arthur. 

“Yo,” Corey said. “Colby okay?” Corey asked.

“Yeah, they’re talking right now.”

“Hey Sam, how did you get your Sight?” Arthur said.

Sam breathed a laugh. “Well….”

••••••••••

“Hey,” Maggie said with a smile. She sat next to him on the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine. I think I should be asking you that.” He chuckled.

She picked at her nails and sighed. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I never should’ve used any kind of attack like that on you.”

“So… why did you?”

Maggie crossed her legs under her. She grabbed her ankles. She stared at her hands. “Magic’s always been the one thing that I excelled in. None of my friends here practice, so it’s kind of become my own thing. I guess I was jealous about having another witch around. You’ve only been practicing magic for a year, and you’re already so strong. _Much_ stronger than me.” She looked at him. “I reacted badly. I hadn’t even realized what I’d done until I saw Arthur and Sam arguing about stopping the fight.”

“I reacted badly to that too,” Colby chuckled. _“I’m_ sorry for almost killing your fiancé.”

“Oho, that _did_ take them by surprise.” She laughed too. “Good thing Sam’s quick on his feet. We’d be having a _very_ different conversation right now.”

He huffed a laugh, then his smile slowly fell. “A few people have told me that I’m powerful for my skill level.”

“Way to rub it in,” she joked.

“No, I think it’s weird too. Actually up until earlier, I didn’t know what to think of it. What made me so different from other witches? I knew I wasn’t the main character in some bullshit Chosen One story.”

Maggie smiled. “Or _are_ you?”

“I’m not. Pretty sure Sam’s the main character in this book.”

She snickered. “So, what do you think now?”

“I think…” He hummed. “I think everybody has their own individual journey of practice. Some learn the normal way in the safety of a coven and spell books to read and study. Some… are attacked by a werewolf or a crazy powerful coven leader. We’re on different levels because we’ve experienced different things, but that doesn’t mean one of us is more important than the other. We’re both witches. We both have magic. Neither of us are masters; we’re both still learning.”

Maggie nodded thoughtfully. She sat quiet for a few minutes, mulling over his words. 

Colby rolled off the bed and walked to his suitcase. As he unzipped it, she spoke, “Colby, I… I knowingly turned your own weakness against you,” Colby looked back at her, “and I am… _so_ sorry about it. My jealousy is not an excuse, and if you don’t forgive me, that’s fine. I understand.”

Colby looked at the books in his hands. His thumb dragged across the aged leather cover. It was her spell book, the one she lended him last year. It was the first real source of magic he used. Brennen had his own Book of Shadows, but nothing as detailed and interesting as this one. If it weren’t for Maggie and this book, well… Colby might’ve given up magic a long time ago.

“I didn’t think you had any ill intentions,” he admitted as he returned to the bed. “That’s just not you; you don’t exploit other people for your own gain. Instead, you help them.” He handed her her book. “I never properly thanked you for letting me borrow this. I really think it’s the reason I kept going and didn’t let my curiosity die after like a week.”

She grabbed her book and flipped through the pages. When she looked back at him, she smiled. “I’m really glad you decided to stick with it and keep going. You’re a great witch, Colby Brock.”

“So are you, Maggie Stoner.”

Her smile grew when she spotted the other book in his hand. “Don’t tell me—Is that the Book of Light? Let me see it!”

He chuckled as he handed it over.

“Finally, I can take a peek at the infamous Marcus Pierce’s mind.” She opened to the first page. She leaned against him, and they flipped through the book together.

••••••••••

“So you summoned a demon to get a wish?” Arthur said. “That doesn’t sound right….”

Sam shrugged. “I spent a lot of the last two years messing with the paranormal. Guess that was the tipping point.”

“That’s a dumb reason to give the Sight,” Charlie said. “I always gave it to dickheads who deserved it, like criminals. Murderers are fun to mess with too.” He grinned mischievously. “Ted Bundy? That bastard died surrounded by his victims, and life didn’t get easier for him after, let me tell you.”

“Can’t it be removed too?”

“What?”

“I know someone who said a coven took the Sight from him a few years ago.”

Charlie shook his head. “No, only the demon who gave it can take it away. Who the hell told you that?”

“This guy, Marcus Pierce.”

Charlie’s eyebrows rose. He shifted his weight. “Oh. Him.”

“You know him?”

“I’ve heard of him. I knew his dad.”

“His dad? He said he’s looking for his dad. What happened?”

“His dad is dead.”

“Oh…” Sam nodded slowly. “That’s why he’s so desperate about veil-hopping.”

“Uh, veil-whatting?” Charlie demanded.

“Back up even further, who’s Marcus Pierce?” Arthur asked.

Sam explained everything he knew about Marcus and veil-hopping, starting from the maybe-beginning. Charlie was serious for the first time that day, listening intently, but he didn’t show much emotion. On the other hand, Arthur gasped and muttered responses like “No way”, and “That’s crazy!”, like he was reading a book.

When Sam finished, Arthur admitted with a tiny grin,” Veil-hopping sounds kind of fun, though.”

“Little bit,” Corey agreed.

“It’s ridiculously dangerous,” Charles scoffed.

“Yeah, but—Oh!” Arthur’s eyes lit up. “Couldn’t you theoretically time travel?! If mirrors are portals, what if you went into the veil through a newer mirror and exited through one from the 1800s? Isn’t the veil essentially a link between portals? So, you could just travel from Point A to Point B.”

Sam nodded eagerly. “I never thought of that!”

“How does Marcus get into the veil?”

“He has to be dead,” Charlie said. “The living can’t enter.”

“What’s the story with his dad?” Corey asked.

Charlie sighed. “He was a shitty person from New Orleans. His wife studied voodoo, but John Harper practiced witchcraft. It wasn’t regular magic that I was used to seeing from witches. He messed with black magic. A lot of the spells were bound by blood; pretty sure he sacrificed his dog, sick bastard.”

Corey scrunched his nose in disgust.

“So he summoned me one day looking for more power. He ran out of dogs to sacrifice, I guess. I told him I’d consider if he let me see who he was. I couldn’t just give power to anyone who asked. After one day, I gave him the Sight, and then I left.”

“What made you give it to him?” Arthur asked.

Charlie glanced at him first, then Sam. He looked away. “He yelled at his wife a lot, usually about dumb stuff that she had no control over. I watched him from morning to nightfall. He treated everyone around him like garbage. I can’t believe Marcus still had him on a pedestal after all of that.”

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” Corey said, looking at Sam. “That explains why Marcus and Casey were such good friends, and why Marcus really believes Casey loved Hailey. Because that’s what he was taught.”

“It’s weird listening to you talk about giving the Sight to someone,” Sam admitted. “Like, hearing things from your end? It’s odd, but it makes me think about why we have it.” He turned to Arthur. “We’re not like John Harper, but we still got the same sentence. Why?”

Corey rubbed his neck and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sam—” he tried.

“Because I’m not like other demons,” Charlie answered. “I’ve spent more time with humans than with my own kind, so I don’t think like they do.” He looked at Sam and Arthur. “I would never give the Sight to either of you. I don’t care how many spirits you guys have pissed off—” They laughed sheepishly— “you don’t deserve it. And I’m sorry it happened.”

“A considerate demon,” Corey muttered. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“What happened after you gave him the Sight?” Sam asked.

Charlie opened and closed his mouth. He hummed, though his lips settled into a firm line. “I was taken back to Hell to, ah…” he drummed his fingers against his knee, _“learn_ from my mistake. I found out a few months later that somebody killed him. I don’t know the story behind it.”

“What do you mean you had to learn from your mistake?” Arthur said carefully.

Charlie shrugged. “They thought I’d gone soft, so they sent me out on missions to toughen me up.”

“… Should we ask?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“No.”

Sam looked back at Corey. He could tell by the way Corey’s eyes nearly popped out of his head that they were both thoroughly chilled. 

Next to Corey, Arthur watched Charlie. His narrowed eyes were filled with concern.

“So hey,” Charlie said, sounding more like his regular self, “heard you have summoner’s magic.”

Sam blinked. “Uh yeah, I guess I do.” He heard the back door open and turned toward it. Maggie smiled as she stepped outside with Colby trailing behind.

“Hey, what’re you guys talking about?” she said. She sat on the arm of Arthur’s chair and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. 

“Oh, we were just talking about how you lost to Colby earlier,” Charlie teased.

“Charlie!” Arthur cried.

“No no, it’s okay.” Maggie waved her hand dismissively. “We all know I’d kick _your_ ass any day.”

Charlie scoffed. “Is that a _challenge?”_

“Maybe it is—”

“We were also talking about summoner’s magic,” Sam added, mainly to Colby, but Charlie and Maggie settled down too. “And I was about to say that I have no idea how to use it.”

“It’s easy, just touch the demon’s sigil and say their real name,” Arthur explained.

“Have you ever used it before?” Corey asked.

“No… I hope I never have to, but,” Arthur shrugged, “it’s just in case.” He looked to Charlie, who stared back blankly.

Then, Charlie pushed his chair back and rose. “Look,” he said, walking around the table, “I already told you John Harper was a fucked up guy, and if you’re going up against his son… you might need help.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped. She whispered loudly to Arthur, “Did Charlie just offer to _help?”_

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Stop making a big deal about it.” He smirked. “I’ve just never been to California.” He offered his hand. “Deal?”

Sam’s eyes darted between Charlie’s face and his outstretched hand. His heart skipped a beat. He took a few deep breaths, swallowed thickly, and nodded.

“Deal.”

Colby moved back when Sam grabbed Charlie’s hand. A bright red glow emitted from their palms and engulfed their hands, and that familiar sting from the first time pierced his skin immediately. Sam’s eyes squeezed shut, and he winced, but he didn’t try pulling away this time. This time… he squeezed tighter.

“Wait—!” he gasped. His eyes flew wide open for a second before they were squinting from the harsh color consuming them. Harsh wind whipped through his hair. He had to take a step back. “What’s your name?” he shouted.

Charlie cracked a smile. He yanked Sam toward him and whispered in his ear, _“Tavarious.”_

Everything came to a standstill when Charlie let go of his hand. It was like their world had stopped altogether. Sam stumbled back, the last gust of wind nearly shoving him off his feet. His hand throbbed; it still burned with the demonic power seeping into his skin. Charlie blurred in front of him.

Then he fell into someone’s chest, and they wrapped their arms around him. “It’s okay,” they whispered in his ear. Sam’s stomach fluttered. That was the jolt he needed to snap back to reality. His head tilted back, and he peered up into Colby’s worried blue eyes. Colby smiled and brushed Sam’s bangs to the side. “You’re okay.”

“That was dramatic,” Maggie said.

Charlie smirked. “Just a bit of that demonic flair.”

“You good Sam?” Corey asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, fine.” He checked his arms for the sigil. His right arm remained untouched, and his left forearm still only barred Sallos’ hidden mark. He lifted his shirt sleeve, and there it was: a large outer circle intertwined with a triangle and small, intricate lines looped throughout the shapes. It still burned with a faint red glow; Sam knew it’d fade in a few hours.

“Well, this has been a crazy weekend,” Colby laughed.

“Ugh, I know,” Maggie groaned. “Fun, though. I think we should end it with a _normal,_ human thing.”

“Like what?” Colby said.

 _“Eating._ ”

Arthur laughed. Charlie whined, “Bor-ing.”

“Well I did say a _human_ thing so,” Maggie sang smugly, “your input is not valid!”

“Let’s go to The Roof,” Arthur suggested. “I’m craving their chicken wings.”

“You’re always craving chicken wings,” Maggie said.

“Yeah. Why don’t we eat chicken wings more often?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she stood, “chicken wings at The Roof.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to the door. “Let’s go.”

••••••••••

Sam, Colby, and Corey were gone by six. They bid their goodbyes with hugs and a halfhearted wave from Charlie. Arthur offered to drive them to the airport since he had to stop by the university anyway and grab a book he left behind.

The porch lights were on when he returned. He could see the blurry carvings along the doorway from the street. Through one of the windows, he saw two shadows move behind the curtains, one staying behind in the living room and the other disappearing from view. Their show must be about to start. Maggie and Charlie bicker a lot, but they share a weird love for reality TV. Arthur could never quite understand.

He hummed as he stepped out. When the door fell shut, the locks clicked, and the car beeped with security, he headed for his house. Then a chill ran up his spine the second he touched the sidewalk, and he froze mid-step.

Arthur turned back to his car and reached into the backseat. There was a bottle in the floor, tucked under the front seat like it was supposed to be there. He slipped it into his back pocket and shut the door again.

When he turned to his house the second time, he came face-to-face with the blonde from yesterday. She beamed a bit too brightly and rocked on her heels.

“Hi,” she chirped. “Are Sam and Colby still here?”

Arthur smiled politely. “No, they just left.” Behind his back, he flipped the bottle lid up. “Sorry.”

She sighed deeply. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

His eyes darted between her and his front door. 

“I’m guessing by the way you’re trembling with fear, that you know who I am.” She stepped forward innocently and reached a hand to his face. Her manicured nails dragged down his cheek and curled under his chin. “Or rather,” she purred, her breath hot against his skin, _“what_ I am.”

He repeatedly told himself to keep calm, that he could do this—he’s done it before, after all—but a part of him really just wanted Charlie to get the hint and come to his rescue.

“Yeah, you guys are easy to catch,” Arthur replied. His voice shook, and he hated it, but he still felt braver than the first time this happened. He stopped looking to the door for help. “You smell like ass.” She scowled. _“Ash._ Sorry.” Demons don’t actually have a scent, but Arthur’s best tactic was irritation. He learned it from Charlie.

She pinned him against the car with an arm pressed to his chest and a hand wrapped around his throat. Her nails dug into his neck, puncturing airways and tearing skin. 

“Ah—!” He gagged and coughed; his vision started to blur. He’d say uncle if he could choke out the words.

In his throbbing fingers, he could feel the bottle begin to slip. He needed a plan. He needed a plan _right now._

“Arthur!”

Her grip loosened for a split second, and she turned toward the voice.

He clumsily tipped the bottle against his hand before it fell to the ground. With a few droplets on his fingers, he took the opportunity to touch her cheek and watch her wither. She released him immediately.

_“Et potestatem habent super me—”_

Her head fell back with a wretched scream that scrambled his eardrums. It chilled him to his bones; he winced. He grit his teeth. This never got easier.

_“Si non habes potestatem humanum.”_

Arthur never complained about having the Sight. It was just something that happened, and he had to accept it. He couldn’t afford to let it control his life, not when there was _so much_ left to do!

But this… this demon, these dangers that show up sometimes? Just knowing he was vulnerable to stuff like this sometimes made him want to vomit. He didn’t have special abilities like Maggie and Charlie. His only magic came from calling someone _else_ to fight his battles. He used to not question Maggie being so overprotective of him, but that was then.

“Arthur!” Maggie cried. He looked up. Charlie stood a few feet away, on guard, hands clenched at his sides, rocking on his heels, waiting for the moment to strike. Behind him was Maggie, eyes the size of golfballs, mouth hanging open. Shell shocked.

Arthur glared down at the demon, slowly falling to the ground, glowering up at him with every ounce of her fading strength. “Kneel,” he growled. His fingers tingled with magic; it made his hand shake. This wasn’t the type of spell either of his friends would approve of him using. Normal magic wasn’t supposed to make your arms numb, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Or in this case, black magic with demonic power.

She collapsed to her knees, defeated.

There was only a second of peace before Charlie was there, dragging her up by her shoulders and pinning her to the car.

“The hell are you doing here?” he growled. Arthur backed away from him, shaking out his hand. “Tell me! Before I drag you back to Hell myself.”

“I just wanted some information,” she said. “Didn’t know he was your pet.” She smirked.

“I’m not an idiot, Sabnock,” he snapped.

Maggie gasped. “Wait, he’s—”

“Shh,” Arthur said. He wrapped an arm around her.

Sabnock looked past Charlie and glowered at the couple. Then she choked on the fist pressing into her throat.

Charlie looked over his shoulder. “Go inside,” he ordered. He never ordered _anybody_ around; Arthur’s only seen him like this a handful of times. That’s why he immediately dragged Maggie away.

“Arthur, what the hell?” she demanded once they were inside. “What just happened? What did—Was that an exorcism?”

“No, it was just a spell.” He pulled her into the kitchen, away from any windows that Sabnock could watch them through. “I’ve had the Sight for almost three years. I had to learn how to defend myself from the paranormal one way or another.” He smirked.

She frowned and took his hands in hers. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you,” she admitted softly.

“Yeah, but I forgive you.” He chuckled, pulled her into a tight hug, and kissed her hair.

The front door opened and closed. Charlie strolled into the kitchen humming. He seemed fine, but there was a patch of bumpy, scalding red skin across his cheek that sizzled like grease in a frying pan.

“Oh—!” Maggie gasped. She smacked Arthur’s chest. “Arth, the healing—”

“On it,” he said, rushing past Charlie and up the stairs.

Maggie waved him over to the kitchen table. “Oh my god, that looks painful.”

“Yeah, but you know what’s _more_ painful? That fucker made us miss our show.” Charlie pouted.

She shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Here!” Arthur called. He raced into the kitchen with a first aid kit. He opened it on the counter and slid it toward her. Inside were short glass jars full of different concoctions. Regular medicine didn’t work as well as magic; that’s what Maggie always swore by. 

She grabbed a jar full of a green slimy substance, dipped three fingers in, and smeared it across Charlie’s cheek. He winced as little as he could manage and looked to Arthur for distraction.

He offered his fist. “Nice spell, man.”

Arthur grinned. He bumped his fist with Charlie’s. “Thanks. Sorry I dropped the holy water. I didn’t think she’d use it on you too.”

“She wanted Sam and Colby, didn’t she?” Maggie asked quietly. She carefully spread the slime across his cheek, and her heart sank a bit every time his lip curled in pain.

“Yeah. Damn, I should’ve said something when I saw her following us yesterday.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Nobody got hurt.”

“Oh, so I’m a nobody?”

“No…” Arthur grinned. “Not to us.”

Charlie huffed. He rolled his eyes and looked away, biting back a smile. “Humans are _so_ stupid.”

“That’s why you keep hanging around, right?” Maggie teased.

“Satan, _shut up.”_

Maggie giggled. “Okay, that should heal in about ten minutes.” She turned to wash her hand off.

“Hey,” Arthur said as he closed the jar. Charlie looked at him. “Thanks for the save.”

The corners of Charlie’s lips twitched. He scoffed and slid off the stool. “I’m going to salvage whatever’s left of that episode.”

Arthur watched him leave. Maggie bumped her hip with his, and they shared a grin. She kissed his cheek then walked into the living room.

“You better not have taken my spot on the couch,” she warned.

Arthur chuckled to himself. He turned to the cabinets to grab a snack. Before he began his search, he grabbed his phone and composed a message to Sam. Just because tonight ended peacefully didn’t mean Sabnock was finished.

He sent the text and pocketed his phone. In the other room, Charlie and Maggie were already deep in a discussion about the show. Arthur grabbed a bag of cookies, and silently, he wished his new friends luck on the other side of the country.


	17. pizza night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if… the friend group found out about magic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning, this gets a bit uhhh steamy at the end there. I didn't *mean* for it to happen. they were supposed to talk some things out, but... well.

On the plane ride home, Corey told Sam and Colby about his session with Kate on Saturday. Colby half listened between dozing off against the window; Corey filled him in later when they were waiting on an Uber. By then, Sam had fallen quiet, absorbed by his music and his thoughts.

He didn’t talk much the whole way home. Then Monday came around, and they were back at work, meetings taking up most of the day, leaving no time to sit down and think things through. Colby worried about him. Sam just… didn’t know what to say.

Tuesday had more meetings and less time to talk. Sam couldn’t have been happier for the distraction. Diving back into their careers as soon as they returned was tiresome, but it meant putting their supernatural lives on hold. That was a break within itself.

Wednesday, Sam was actively avoiding talking about anything. Could they make it three days without discussing something paranormal? He was determined to make it so.

Jake, Corey, and Reggie came over after the meetings finished for the day. Sam stated the rules immediately, “We’re not talking about anything involving Marcus Pierce, okay?”

Corey raised his hand. “What about—”

“Nope.” Sam shook his head. “Not even that.”

Jake turned to Corey. “Not even what?” he whispered loudly.

They eyed Sam until someone knocked on the door. As soon as he turned his back, they began to whisper again. Although quieter than Jake, Sam heard a few words regarding Kate and his Sight that almost made him want to punch a wall. He paused with his hand inches from the doorknob, took a deep breath, then pulled the door open.

Hailey stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. She must’ve just got in as well; she wore a navy pantsuit with her hair tied back in a neat bun. When he answered the door, she smiled.

“Hey, welcome back.” He stepped aside and waved her in. “How was your trip?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Man, it was crazy.”

“I want to hear all about it, but first, we have to talk about—”

“If this has anything to do with the coven or Marcus or anything like that, it can wait until tomorrow.”

She frowned. “Actually, it can’t. Why?”

“Sam’s deemed this a magic-free zone today,” Colby said. He leaned over the back of the couch. “Actually, more like every day since we got back.”

“It’s not _magic_ free,” Sam argued, “it’s just… magic _business_ free.” Hailey’s eyebrows scrunched together. He explained, “Look, I learned something about my Sight on the trip. The only thing I want to focus on right now is my _job.”_ He looked up at Colby. “I miss making videos.”

Colby smiled fondly. “We were only gone for a few days.”

“A few _intense_ days. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, but I’m glad to be back.” Sam turned to Hailey. “So, are you staying for pizza night?”

She blinked. “Oh uh, I forget you do that every week.”

He nodded eagerly. “Pleeease.”

Colby joined them. He wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist and smiled at Hailey. “Our friends are really cool. You’ll like them.”

“It’s like I told Sam, I’m not really a social person.”

“How about this,” Sam offered, “come for the beginning of the night, and if you’re not having fun, you can leave.” He shared a look with Colby. “We won’t mind, promise.”

Hailey sighed. She shoved her hands in her pants pockets and smiled. “You guys are too nice.”

“That’s a problem I don’t mind having,” Colby laughed.

“Guys, c’mere,” Jake called. “You have to check this out.”

Hailey said, “I’m going to change. I’ll be back.”

Sam nodded while Colby pulled him away. The door clicked behind them as they gathered at the end of the couch to watch whatever Jake had planned.

“Hailey taught me this over the weekend,” he explained. “Okay, see my phone there?” He gestured to the coffee table with his palm toward the phone. _“Vitae.”_ The phone shuddered and trembled. Then, it began to rise slowly with his arm. The top lifted first with the rest behind. It rotated in the air, the lens taking in every inch of their surroundings, until the screen stopped on Sam and Colby. His camera was rolling; Sam grinned and Colby waved.

“Dude, that’s awesome,” Colby said. 

Corey looked toward the door when he heard it open and shut. He froze mid-laugh. Blindly, he smacked Reggie’s leg for help. He looked at him to make sure he’d caught on; Reggie did, and now neither knew what to say.

“Guys…” Corey called.

Colby snatched Jake’s phone out of the air and held it above his head to flood his camera roll with dozens of selfies. Neither he nor Sam noticed the new company until Colby tilted the phone closer to Sam, and they finally spotted one stunned Kevin Langue standing by the door, camera in his hand, jaw hanging open.

“Oh shit,” Jake said.

“Kevin! Hey uh… how long have you been there?” Sam asked carefully.

Kevin was a tall, dark skinned man; the oldest of their friend group. He pointed accusingly at Jake. “That was—What—That was a trick, right?” He began to take a step, but then he stopped in his tracks and frowned. “What the fuck?”

“Strings,” Colby answered quickly. “There were strings attached. Jake just pranked us.”

“But Jake said a _magic word_ —Oh wait, wait, wait.” He stormed forward and looked over each friend carefully. “Did you guys _actually_ join a cult?”

“Colby did,” Jake said. He snickered.

Kevin swung an arm over the coffee table. He stood straight and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “No strings.”

“Why can’t we tell him and have Hailey erase his memory later?” Reggie said.

“Reggie,” Sam warned.

“Hold up, erase my—?” Kevin’s eyes widened again. “This is a prank, right? Haha, you guys are just pranking me? Right?”

Their door opened again. Hailey pushed the door shut and frowned at the scene before her. “Hey….”

Kevin spun around. “Oh, is she in the cult too?”

Hailey froze. Her eyes swept over the situation before she turned to Sam and Colby. With her hands on her hips, she accused, “Colby.”

“What, no! This isn’t my fault,” Colby defended. He crossed his arms.

“He just walked in while Jake was showing us a trick,” Sam said. “We weren’t expecting you for another hour.” He threw Kevin a pointed look.

Kevin shifted his weight. He laughed nervously. “Since when do you guys care about us arriving on time? I just figured we could hang out before like we usually do….”

Reggie squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. “They mean no harm, brother. Magic’s just a touchy subject.”

“Magic?” Kevin repeated. He looked at Jake. “So, the levitating phone trick was… real?”

Jake nodded. He and the others watched Kevin with bated breath. Sam shifted closer to Colby. He squeezed his hand, trying to pretend like he wasn’t nervous as hell. Colby squeezed back. Corey and Reggie shared uneasy looks. Jake rocked on his heels. Hailey watched with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

Kevin suddenly threw his head back and laughed. It was a bellow of a laugh, bubbling up from his stomach and echoing throughout the apartment. His face screwed up in a grin that made his cheeks hurt. He leaned against Reggie’s shoulder while his body rocked with a howl of levity that had his friends sharing their own amused smiles.

Maybe they would have rolled with whatever Kevin was thinking. Maybe they would have agreed to it being a prank and made their night easier, but Sam could tell by the way his friends looked at each other that they weren’t completely opposed to the idea of keeping Kevin in the dark. Maybe he wasn’t, either. Maybe a small part of him was tired of hiding this side of his life from the rest of their close friend group. He’d always strived on surrounding himself with people he could trust, yet there he was, keeping the biggest secret of his life. Maybe… maybe they should give this a shot.

“What if we tell everyone tonight?” Sam said suddenly.

“What?” Corey said. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! I mean,” Sam looked at Kevin, “we’ve been keeping this huge secret from them for months. They’re our best friends.”

Kevin calmed down with a few deep breaths. He still leaned on Reggie’s shoulder as he listened to the others speak. His amusement faded quickly, and now his eyebrows furrowed with the same confusion as before.

“You know we can’t do that,” Colby said softly. He took Sam’s hand in his and tugged him closer. “We can’t get any more people involved. It’s dangerous. Reggie’s only been here for like three weeks, and he’s already been attacked by a vampire.”

“Not complaining about that though,” Reggie admitted. “It was pretty cool.”

Sam felt his shoulders dip. He subconsciously tried shifting away, but Colby held him still. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Of course we can’t tell them.”

Colby smiled sadly. He kissed Sam’s temple.

“So uh,” Kevin said, “you say you can’t tell us, but I already know, so…?”

“Do you believe us?” Jake asked. “Do you believe what you just saw?”

“Not really, but if you guys are that serious about it, I want to know.”

Hailey gasped softly. Her face lit up with an idea. “If you want to tell them, you _can.”_ The men looked at her. “You can have a night to tell and show your friends everything, see how they react, and then Colby and I can replace their memories.”

“Replace?” Corey said.

“In this case, I don’t think simply erasing memories will work,” she explained. “That’s too many people all missing the exact same time period; they’ll ask questions. There’s a memory replacing spell, though. It’s fairly simple. While we perform the spell, we just say what we want them to think happened. We’ll have to get our stories straight, though.”

“I dunno,” Colby said hesitantly. “I’ve never tried that on a person, and I don’t have a good track record for first attempt mind spells. I don’t want a repeat of the sleep spell.” He laughed at his inside joke.

Sam frowned. “What happened with the sleep spell?”

Colby waved him off. “Another time.”

Hailey glanced at Kevin. “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Perhaps we shouldn’t discuss this in front of one of the people who will be affected later.”

“You lost me at erasing memories,” Kevin admitted.

Hailey hummed thoughtfully.

“What would we tell them?” Corey asked. “Everything? Bits and pieces?”

“Just the magic part,” Sam decided. “I’m not telling my side.”

“Oh, I’m so telling everyone how I courageously defeated a vampire,” Reggie said with a grin.

“And _I’ll_ tell them how it wasn’t really courageous at all,” Jake added dryly.

“That’s the jealousy talking.”

“Tell me now,” Kevin said eagerly.

While Reggie and the others began unraveling the secrets among their tight group, Sam headed to the fridge for something to drink. There weren’t any lights on in the kitchen, but it wouldn’t matter anyway because the darkness shrouding in the corner was the type light couldn’t break through. Sam stopped next to the bar. She stared at him.

Ever since Corey told Sam the truth about Kate, she’d been showing up more and more. Maybe what Sam thought about her was wrong, too. Maybe she wasn’t a weak ghost who didn’t have enough strength to stay visible all the time. Maybe she only showed up when she wanted to.

He ignored her. There was a knock behind him; not at the door, just on the counter. She wanted to talk. That was another thing, she actually tried reaching out more. She _wanted_ to talk. He didn’t; fuck her.

Sam slammed the fridge closed. He headed back into the living room without looking back at her.

Their friends began trickling in as time grew closer to the hour. Sam was two and a half White Claws in. He called for pizza when the girls arrived, and when Aryia and Cassie finally showed, their delivery driver was downstairs. Sam got up to leave, and Colby followed.

“You don’t have to—” he tried saying when Colby met him at the door. “I’m not drunk enough to need an escort.”

“I know,” Colby laughed. He intertwined his fingers with Sam’s and tugged him into the hall. “But I just needed a break from the party.”

“You can’t turn in early tonight! Tonight’s when we tell everyone.” He grinned at Colby.

“We’ve already told everyone. They don’t believe us.” Colby snickered. “I wouldn’t believe us either, though.”

In the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall. “Do you think, after this is over, we’ll ever tell them the story? And let them remember it?”

Colby rubbed his thumb over Sam’s knuckles. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s up to the others, I guess. If there’s no danger, I don’t think I’d be opposed to it. What about you?”

Sam shook his head immediately, but then he frowned. “I don’t know either. Right now I wouldn’t, but maybe after…?” He shrugged.

Downstairs, Sam took the pizzas from Colby after Colby stepped out to pay. When they were walking back to the elevator, Sam caught a dark shadow in the corner of the room where a light had burned out. He scowled at her, not noticing a couple stepping out of the elevator.

“Hey,” Colby called. He cut Sam off and blocked his view, forcing his eyes to revert back to their natural color just as the couple walked by.

Sam looked away. “Didn’t see them,” he muttered.

“I know, it’s okay.” Colby glanced at the front desk as he pulled Sam into the elevator. Once they were alone, he said, “Did you see Kate?” Sam huffed. Apparently that was enough of an answer because Colby continued, “You’re mad at her, huh?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Sam grumbled.

Colby sighed. “Okay.”

Sam glanced at him. “I _will_ talk about it… eventually. Just not right now.”

“Not on magic business free day, right?” Colby chuckled.

Sam grinned. “Right.”

Inside their apartment, Jake was playing with fire. He had a small flame in his hand, playfully threatening to burn Griffin and Aryia while their friends watched on in shifting suspicion.

“You guys really put a lot into this prank,” Tara said. She raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“It’s not a prank babe,” Jake said.

“How come you have magic but Corey doesn’t?” Kevin asked.

“Only Colby, Hailey, and I have magic,” Jake explained. He pointed to Hailey sitting in the corner of the couch between Corey and Reggie.

“How many people are in on this?” Aryia said with a laugh. He pointed at Sam and Colby. “It’s your turn to sell it, guys.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t have magic. My only power is providing pizza to my friends.” He opened a pizza box and smiled innocently at the rest of the group.

Aryia stepped around outstretched legs to reach the kitchen. “That’s a lame power,” he said, “but I appreciate it.”

“If this is real, how long have you had magic?” Katrina asked. “Why are you only telling us now?”

“We’ve all been practicing magic for different amounts of time,” Colby said. “All a little less than a year except for Hailey. We’re telling you now because…” He looked at Sam, then to each person involved. He chuckled lowly. “Honestly, we’re telling you now because Kevin walked in on Jake doing a spell, so we figured we should let you all in on it.”

Kevin nodded when his friends turned to him. “It’s true; Jake’s phone was levitating!”

“Why did you keep it from us?” Devyn said.

“Because the more people who know, the more danger they’re in,” Sam answered. “We’re still in danger, actually.”

“Danger?” Cassie said. She frowned at her boyfriend Reggie. “What do you mean? Are you guys okay?”

Those involved in the supernatural didn’t answer right away. They shared looks with each other, contemplating what to say next. Nobody wanted to admit it. Not to them, not to their innocent friends who had barely grasped the idea of _magic,_ let alone anything else. Even if they wouldn’t remember it by the next morning, bringing it up now just left a sinking feeling in their stomachs.

“We’re figuring it out,” Sam answered. He forced a smile. “Nothing to worry about, really. We told you guys because we want to show you how _cool_ magic is. Well, they do.” He gestured to Colby and Jake. “So…” He took a seat on the couch and let them have the floor.

For the rest of the night, Colby, Jake, and Hailey showed off their magic. They played with the elements, froze things in midair, and levitated people off the ground. Hailey came out of her shell little by little, and when Xepher asked about her, she opened up quicker than the guys had seen before. She remained quieter than the others, but not silent, and Sam considered that a victory.

Pizza Night carried on like usual with the bonus magical touch. Tara kept Jake busy with tiny spells that made her eyes shine with amazement. Hailey told Griffin and Kevin the story of her and Val under the influence, confusing Griffin for Colby last week. Katrina, Corey, and Colby filmed TikToks in the kitchen. Reggie eagerly filled Cassie in on the different types of supernatural creatures out there, that they were all _real_ and _everywhere_ and _he shot a vampire—_

They played a trivia game for Kevin’s video. Half sat out so only the couples remained. Corey really wanted to compete, so he and Hailey teamed up. Sam and Colby and Jake and Tara tied in the end. Corey and Hailey were only a few points behind. 

“That’s right, friendship is the best ship!” Corey cried when Reggie started to complain. He and Hailey fist bumped.

Around ten, Hailey was slumped on the couch next to Sam, watching TikToks over his shoulder. When she noticed the time, she grabbed Colby and headed to her apartment to begin making the memory potion. Fifteen minutes later, they were back with a small black cauldron. Inside was a bubbly pink concoction that smelled like strawberries.

“Hey guys?” Colby called as they made their way back into the living room. He gestured to Hailey. “Hailey made some…”

“Strawberry punch with a kick,” she explained with a smile. “I figured this pizza party could use some more fun.”

“Oh that sounds great,” Cassie said, “but we should probably stay away from it tonight. We have to drive home.” She and some others laughed.

“C’mon, one drink won’t hurt,” Jake urged.

Aryia frowned. He leaned forward on his knees and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What’s in it?”

“Yeahh I don’t trust that,” Kevin laughed.

Tara grinned with him. “One of you drink it first.”

They shared uncertain looks with one another, wondering where to go from there. Someone could drink it, sure, but then they’d have to get out before the potion began to take effect. Nobody knew when or how that would happen, either. Up until twenty minutes ago, Sam was expecting a _spell._

“It’s—” he began to say.

Jake grabbed the cauldron. He tipped it toward his mouth and swallowed a small sip. When he lowered it, he switched his wide eyes to Hailey and Colby. “Wow,” he said. “That’s better than I thought it’d be.”

After Jake handed off the cauldron to Griffin, Colby grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side. Sam scrambled to his feet. He, Corey, and Reggie joined them in the hall leading to the bedroom.

“What happens now?” Jake asked. “Do I, like—is it instant? Do I pass out? What—”

“They’re going to fall asleep,” Colby explained. “While they’re asleep, Hailey’s going to tell them to forget everything we told them tonight about magic. She’ll say tonight was just a regular pizza night like we do every week. When they wake up, they’ll think we just hung out tonight like we usually do.”

“Damn, magic makes it so easy to mess with people’s heads,” Sam muttered.

“That means I’ll forget everything too! Right?” Jake said. He shook his head. “I don’t want to forget.”

“You won’t. We just have to make sure you don’t hear Hailey when she finishes the spell.” Colby pushed him toward the bedroom. “Come on.”

“The _bedroom?_ ” Jake pretended to be scandalized. “Colby, it’s about time.”

Sam and Reggie turned back at their friends. One by one, they were beginning to doze. Hailey twisted to look at the boys. She nodded.

Sam returned it before he and Reggie joined the others in the bedroom. Jake had slumped to the floor in front of the bed. His eyelids were droopy. Colby knelt in front of him and held his shoulders to keep him upright.

“Jake, I have to tell you something before you go under,” Colby said, surprisingly serious.

Jake blinked. “What is it?”

Colby inhaled deeply. “When I first got into magic, I practiced the sleep spell on you, and it kind of went wrong the first time, and I honest to God thought you were like, half dead or something.”

Jake’s eyes snapped open. “You _what?!”_

 _“Quiesco,”_ Colby said, pressing his fingers to Jake’s temple. He caught Jake when he rolled over into his arms. Behind him, Corey began questioning. He wanted to know who _else_ Colby experimented on in their old house, but… Sam frowned. Colby stared straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly parted.

Sam knelt next to him. He grabbed Colby’s arm gently. “Hey,” he whispered.

Colby blinked, and Sam didn’t miss the small gasp that escaped as Colby looked at him. He held Sam’s gaze for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Um,” he said, looking back at Jake. “Jake when you wake up, you’re going to forget this conversation ever happened. We took you into a different room, so you wouldn’t forget about magic because you drank the potion. Nobody brought up the past.” He touched Jake’s temple again. _“Expergisci.”_

Jake woke with a yawn. He leaned against the bed and gazed up at his friends. “Did the spell work?” he slurred.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Colby asked.

Jake hummed. “I drank the potion. Shouldn’t have drank the potion. Tasted good, though.”

Colby chuckled. He and Sam helped Jake to his feet. As soon as Jake got his footing, he became more awake. He staggered past his brother and led the way back into the living room, muttering something about wanting more pizza. Reggie, Corey, and Colby began to follow, but Sam caught Colby’s hand.

“Hey,” he said, tugging him back, “what happened just now? With that spell?”

“I don’t like doing that spell anymore,” Colby admitted quietly.

“Why not?” Sam chuckled. “That used to be like, your thing. The sleep spell and the candle trick: your go-tos.”

Colby didn’t respond for a minute. His eyes darted around the room until they finally settled on Sam again. “No magic business, remember?”

Sam sighed. “Fair enough. Tomorrow, then.”

Colby smiled faintly. He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

When they returned to the living room, their friends were leaving.

“That stuff was really good,” Aryia said as he headed for the door. “We should have that more often.”

“It was nice meeting you!” Devyn told Hailey.

“Yeah, you should hangout with us sometime,” Katrina added with a grin. “We’re much more fun than the boys.”

“Hey,” Sam whined.

“And I know this one from experience,” she teased, hugging him around the waist.

He pouted. “Wow, rude.”

Hailey raised her eyebrows in question. Sam pointed at Katrina, “She’s my ex.”

_“Oh.”_

“It was a mutual breakup.” Katrina shrugged. “So, we’re still friends.”

“Hey, hey!” Colby called. He hugged Sam from behind and yanked him free of her clutches. “Hands off, he’s mine.” He snaked his head around Sam’s and playfully glared at Katrina.

“Well,” Xepher said, coming up behind Katrina, “she’s _mine.”_ She hugged her close and returned Colby’s glare.

“I guess we’re at an agreement then.”

“Guess so.” Xepher pulled Katrina toward the door. “We’re going then. Night guys!”

Sam waved. “Night, drive safe.”

“I’ll text you, Hailey,” Katrina said before pulling the door shut behind her.

Hailey left half an hour later, after the boys told her about their Salem trip. Well, Colby really did most of the talking. Sam sat beside him, listening. He liked just listening to him talk sometimes. Colby could go on about mindless nonsense for hours, and Sam would enjoy every moment of it. He pulled Colby’s hand into his lap as the story unfolded. He focused on his fingers—twisting the rings, measuring how much bigger Colby’s was to his—to keep his mind straight. He didn’t need to go looking around for anything.

Neither followed Hailey out like they usually did when she left. Colby waved over his shoulder while Sam called a goodbye. His head fell on Colby’s shoulder. For a few long minutes, they didn’t speak. Colby dragged Sam’s hand into his lap and covered it with his other. His head rested against Sam’s. They sat in silence, enjoying the warmth and company of the other.

When Sam felt himself dozing, he knew it was time to move. “Colby,” he whispered.

“Huh?”

“We should go to bed.”

Colby turned his head, so his lips pressed into Sam’s hair. “Too far,” he whined. “Let’s sleep out here.”

“The bed would be comfier.”

“What do you care? You’re gonna lay on me anyways.”

Sam chuckled. “Then it would be more comfortable for _you.”_

Colby sighed deeply. “I don’t care.”

Sam made the first attempt to move. He pushed himself off the couch and turned to tug Colby with him. “C’mon, love.” Sam chuckled. 

Colby took Sam’s hand and tugged forward suddenly. Sam stumbled and threw his arms out to catch himself. He landed with one knee pressed into the front of the couch, one hand on the back of the couch, and the other still tight in Colby’s grip against his chest. Colby tipped his head back to smirk up at him.

 _“I_ want to stay on the couch.”

“Well,” Sam smiled, _“I’m_ going to bed. You can join me if you want.” He moved to stand, but Colby’s free hand caught his hip. He froze; his heart fluttered. His eyes flickered to Colby’s. A tense moment passed between then.

Then Sam pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He climbed onto the couch and straddled him. Immediately, like a wild animal set free, Colby pulled him in for a heated kiss that made him gasp with excitement. Sam’s fingers cupped his cheeks, raked through his hair, curled in his locks like his life depended on it. Too long… It had been too long since they were together like this. He missed it. He missed _him_ , god.Sam dipped his head and trailed hot kisses down Colby’s neck. But—

“We continue this in the bedroom,” Sam said lowly. He ground against Colby’s dick for good measure—and maybe a little fun on his part—and bit hard on his lip when Colby growled in return. He _loved_ when Colby growled, fuck. It was so _sexy._

Colby never lost his smirk. He shoved Sam to the couch and crawled on top of him with a hungry look in his eyes. That single look _excited_ Sam; it sparked a warmth in his belly. Colby pinned one of Sam’s wrists to the couch while the under slipped under his waistband. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to Sam’s again. The kiss was gentle, but his hands weren’t. Sam _moaned,_ and—

And they didn’t make it to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed my *last ever* fanfiction chapter..... as a teenager! by this time next week, I'll be twentyyyyyy. 
> 
> by this time tomorrow, actually lol I really spent every bit of my teenage years writing fanfiction. no regrets, though!


	18. it stings, like taking candy from a baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an upcoming magical sting operation for a certain exiled witch at an underground black market. Apparently, only one group is qualified for the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another semi-steamy scene ahead. not as vulgar as the last but still ;)

“We’ve lost contact with…”

 _Corey didn’t recognize the room he stood in with—with Sam. He could see Sam in front of him, eyes a blazing red and jaw clenched so tight his teeth could break. Corey’s heart sank. He looked around frantically. He didn’t know where they were. He didn’t know… Everything felt wrong. Sam felt wrong. Who was that guy? Not his friend…_ not _his friend._

_He almost had chills._

“We’ve lost contact with Colby.”

 _Colby?_ Colby. _Where was Colby? How could they lose Colby?_

_It’s like the Witches Forest. Was that it? The Witches Forest? Were they back?_

_“Find him,” Sam growled._

_A shadow turned to them. That’s when he realized the room they stood in wasn’t made of shadows. That was a shadow—a dark, human shaped figure that appeared out of nowhere—but this room… this place, whatever the hell it is, wasn’t darkness. It wasn’t light. It was just… nothing._

_Hailey, with eyes wide: frantic, desperate, afraid. She admitted quietly, “I can’t do that.”_

_Bad feelings. Very bad feelings. What was this? What’s happening?_

_Sam looked at him again. He still had those ruby red eyes, glaring at someone. Something. Him? Sam was angry at… him?_

_None of this made sense. He didn’t get it; why didn’t he get it?_

_Where’s Colby?_

_And Jake? And Reggie?_

_Corey didn’t like it there. It wasn’t safe—he wasn’t safe._

_He wanted out._

_He wanted to go_ home.

  
  


He woke not with a gasp or a jolt, but with his eyes fluttering open calmly and his chest tight with misplaced terror and despair. For a long moment, he stared at the ceiling thinking. Reflecting. Trying to retain as much of that dream as he could. It wasn’t hard to forget; it was wild enough to taint his mind for the rest of the day, at least. When his mind drifted to his friends Sam, Colby, and the others, his stomach twisted painfully.

Then, Chaz walked in. “Morning bro,” he said, far more awake than Corey. He strolled into the kitchen and opened his cabinets, searching for food.

Corey blinked. He remembered all of a sudden where he was or rather, where he wasn’t. He wasn’t in his own bed at his own apartment. He hadn’t been there for a few weeks. Instead, he lay on Chaz’s couch for the upteenth morning in a row. 

He sighed heavily. “Morning dude.” He sat up and dragged a hand down his face. He missed his bed. His home. He missed living alone—though, he adored Chaz and really was thankful for him. Chaz said Corey could stay as long as he needed, but Corey still wished he knew when he’d go home. There was such a thing as overstaying, even with your best friend, and he felt he was reaching that point.

Moving back in wasn’t so… easy though. _He_ was still there, the Shadowman. Right where they left him, he hoped. He had taken over his room, sure, but at least he was contained and trapped. This was the first time in ten years that Corey hadn’t felt a heavy presence looming over his shoulder, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He hadn’t realized how good it felt to not be haunted. He slept easier, he didn’t feel as nervous… hell, he just felt happier.

But just because he wasn’t currently being haunted didn’t mean the problem was solved. He still had to actually get rid of the Shadowman, somehow, and that wasn’t something he was prepared for. Not alone, at least. He’d need at least Sam at his side. Maybe the witches could help too. They already exorcised one demon, after all.

Sam said once that Corey had to be the one to get rid of him, but… that was probably just one way of handling it, right? 

That couldn’t be the only way… to… 

Nah!

“Let’s go get breakfast,” Chaz said after closing the last cabinet in defeat.

Corey chuckled. “Okay.” He got ready quickly, and then they were leaving, chatting, jumping from one topic to another.

His dream was pushed to the back of his mind; forgotten.

••••••••••

Sam forgot to set an alarm the night before, so he woke up the next morning on his own. Thankfully, there weren’t any meetings on Thursday. There was actually nothing planned that day… nothing _normal,_ anyway. He figured their supernatural lives would come barreling in like a tornado sometime, and he wasn’t exactly ready for it.

They slept on the couch, which—despite whatever sleepy Colby claimed last night—really was not that comfortable. It wasn’t wide enough for them both to lay properly. He had inches between himself and the edge of the couch; Colby’s arm and leg wrapped around his body definitely held him in place. Despite this, he had to breathe a laugh.

Behind him, Colby mumbled groggily. He said a few words that didn’t make sense together, then he hugged Sam close and buried his face in his neck. Sam thought he’d fallen back asleep, but then he sang quietly in his ear, “We slept on the co-uch.”

Sam huffed. “Yeah… guess you won this time.”

“I win _every_ time.” Colby pressed a soft kiss beneath Sam’s ear.

“Do not.”

Colby chuckled lowly. “Do too. I’m _always_ on top.”

Sam laughed out loud. “Shut up.” He pulled the blanket over his shoulder. “Why’s it so cold in here?” he whined.

“Because you _insist_ on keeping it that way.” The arm around Sam’s chest disappeared. A second later, he heard the air conditioning kick off. “You’re not allowed to touch the thermostat anymore.”

Sam pretended not to hear him. “There’s magic for lazy things too?”

“There’s magic for _everything,_ baby.”

“Just don’t mess with it so much that you break it.”

Colby laughed behind him, kind of nervous and sheepish. Sam tensed, waiting for some confession of it already happening or coming too close to it. But then Colby surprised him with, “I broke it at the other house.”

Sam gasped. “No way! How?”

“It was the same spell, I just needed something to practice on.” His next chuckle was quiet and muffled against Sam’s neck. His hot breath sent chills down Sam’s spine.

“Oh my god, I thought I did that.”

“How could _you_ have done it?”

“I thought I, like—I thought I haunted the place so bad that the ghosts broke the air conditioning.” A pause. “That sounds so stupid out loud.”

“No, I think Corey came up with that idea, and we just accepted it. Weird that the whole house just accepted ghosts breaking the air conditioning over _logic.”_

“Well, now I know why _you_ went along with it.”

Colby laughed again, and Sam could imagine the mischief in his eyes. Someone’s phone dinged with a text message. Sam eyed his phone laying on his boxer a few feet away. It remained dark and silent; probably dead. Then Colby’s phone rang again, and he followed the noise to the edge of the couch. It laid a few inches from the couch, maybe within grabbing distance. As he reached for it, he said, “Jake texted you.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What?” Sam’s body shifted closer to the edge of the couch. He would’ve fallen had Colby not tightened his hold around him. He smiled and grabbed his phone.

“I told him I’d take him to the church for a magic lesson around noon. What time is it?”

Sam settled back onto the couch and clicked the phone on. “11:30.”

“Goddamnit, I have to shower.”

“Me too.” Sam turned to smile up at him. “Share water?”

Five minutes passed, and they were together again, naked bodies pressed against each other under soft, warm water. They took their time, despite the hour dwindling down. In the back of Sam’s mind, he knew they had to be nearing noon. But that realization was pushed to the far ends of his brain. He wanted to be caught up in the then and now. He wanted to focus on the fingers massaging his soapy scalp, the water rushing in his ears, the soft singing behind him as Colby tried figuring out the name of the song stuck in his head. 

Colby could sing, though you wouldn't know just by talking to him. His brother was big into music, in a band and everything, so Sam wasn’t surprised some of that talent bled into Colby. But he rarely ever sang, and if he did, it wasn’t serious. He yelled instead of sang, or he didn’t try very hard purely for the comedy aspect of a video. Sam’s heard both versions though: the joke and the real thing. He’d only ever heard the real thing when it was just the two of them, no outside distractions, nobody else around. Colby only ever sang for Sam, and god damn, did that make him feel special.

“for life,” Sam said.

“Hm?” Colby's hand traced the edge of his chin. His fingers brushed over Sam’s throat; he swallowed thickly. Colby had a thing for throats, a kink, and Sam didn’t share it when they first started dating, but now….

“That’s the song you’re singing.” He grabbed Colby’s hand from his neck and turned to face him. “It’s been stuck in my head too. I heard it on Andrea's story.”

Colby laughed. “That’s it! God, that was bugging me.”

Sam smiled. He stepped around him to rinse his hair out. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and let the water fall over his face. It warmed him to his bones. Relaxing. Safe. He didn’t realize how much he needed it.

A hand cupped his cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” Sam began to open his eyes, but then Colby kissed him, and he melted again. Another hand rested on his back, fingertips pressing into the curve of his spine. He shuffled back until the hand disappeared and he touched the tile wall. His heart pounded in his chest with _excitement_ and _lust_ and—and he wanted him all over again. He pulled Colby closer, _closer._

Then Colby broke away, abrupt and slow at the same time, with his teeth tugging at Sam’s lower lip teasingly. Sam made a noise of protest that came out as a whine. His fingers curled under Colby’s ear, ready to pull him back to him, but Colby dipped his head. He gently dragged his teeth down Sam’s neck, and—ahh, he’d missed a spot last night, Sam realized with a staggering breath. He jerked at the hot tongue gliding down his neck and across his collarbone.

Colby loved hickeys. He loved receiving them, but he loved giving them more. He loved marking Sam, both in spots only Colby would see and especially in places on display for everyone else. He wasn’t a possessive person usually, but goddamn, at home? Behind closed doors? Sam belonged to Colby.

And that drove Sam _wild._

“Colby—!” Sam moaned when Colby swept his tongue across the newly sensitive spot.

Colby’s hands roamed as he returned to Sam’s lips. He chuckled into the kiss.

“Round two.”

•••••••••••

Around two, Sam paused in the shadow of a tree to catch his breath. He slid to the ground against a rock and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Ahead of him, a warm breeze swept through Griffin Park. There weren’t many people around, a few pairs and even less solos on an afternoon jog like him. He preferred this to later in the day when more people flocked to the mountains after work or when the sun wasn’t as harsh. Things were quieter, more peaceful. That wasn’t a common thing to find in Los Angeles.

He scrolled through his phone while his breathing evened out. Twitter was full of boring, confusing political things along with the aftermath of a James Charles scandal. Instagram had edits from fans; he loved looking through those. How did they get so lucky with such damn talented fans? He’d never understand.

Their Occult group chat was lively with new snaps. They were mostly Colby taking videos of Ruth beating Jake in a magic duel. The first few were, anyway. The longer Sam watched, the more Jake got the hang of things. Him ducking beneath a rock attack and freezing Ruth’s feet to the ground differed from the first clip of him falling victim to a mess of vines that wrapped around his legs. Every now and then, Reggie and Corey would pop up in between, mostly pictures of random things with a response in the caption. 

Sam aimed his camera toward the empty dirt path ahead of him. There was a girl nearby and walking toward him, but he didn’t pay much attention. He sent the picture without a caption then locked his phone and relaxed against the rock. As he stared up at the trees, he realized for the first time in a while that none of his thoughts were on Marcus or ghosts or anything supernatural. Yet another reason to love running.

“Hey, Sam!” that girl called when she neared him. When he looked, she was waving big and eagerly with a wide grin on her face. He breathed a laugh. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he forced himself up and met her halfway.

“Hi,” he said.

“Oh my gosh, _hi!”_ she cried. “I’m Gwen, I—I can’t believe I’m meeting you, _whoa—”_ She stood much shorter than him, about Tara’s height he guessed. Gwen had wide, innocent brown eyes that shone with as much excitement as her rushed greeting did. She busied her hands by tying her brown hair into a ponytail. He noticed her fingers trembling when she first reached for him.

He smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you, Gwen! What’re you up to?”

“Oh, just taking a walk. Looking for you.”

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “For me? How’d you know I was up here?” It wasn’t _that_ weird; he’d been out for an hour. Someone easily could’ve uploaded a picture online along with where they spotted him. It happened a lot, especially when they used to explore. Still… he wouldn’t ever get used to it.

“Oh, you know.” She smirked, letting her words fall flat between them.

And ah, that… was a weird response.

He smiled politely. “Well it was nice meeting you! Enjoy the rest of your day. I have to finish my run now. Bye!” He shifted back and stepped around her. She reached for him as he jogged off, her fingers brushed his arm, and he pretended he didn’t feel it.

By the time he reached his car, he’d forgotten about his encounter. Some people were just awkward, especially meeting someone they follow online. He’s had his fair share of uncomfortable interactions with people over the years. So, he just shrugged and moved on.

But then she was there, at the bottom of the hill, as he was stepping into his car. How’d she move that fast? He _jogged_ down. Did she…? Their fans weren’t the type to chase them. They were chill. Usually.

She beamed at him, waving frantically from the edge of the path as if she was seeing him for the first time again. He returned the wave, less enthusiastic, and backed out of his parking spot. In the rearview mirror, he watched her stare at the back of his car until he’d turned the corner.

_So weird._

••••••••••

Corey sat outside of his apartment, contemplating another round with the Shadowman. He needed to get in there, to reclaim his home! That was just… _much_ easier said than done. 

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His phone vibrated with a text. It came from Hailey and had the word ‘emergency’ in it. His breath caught in his throat.

 _Emergency Occult meeting,_ the text read. _My apartment in 20 minutes._

Corey glanced at his home. Oh, well, it seemed he had other places to be. Next time, Shadowman.

He flipped the building off as he drove away.

••••••••••

By the time he arrived, almost everyone was already there. Corey walked into Colby, Jake, Reggie, and Hailey sitting around the living room, chatting. Casually, as if Hailey hadn’t sent out an emergency text.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. He pushed the door shut with his foot and shuffled into the room cautiously. Then his eyes widened as an idea popped into his head. “Where’s Sam?!”

Colby waved him off. “Chill out, he’s on his way. He went for a run.”

Corey sat next to him with a relieved sigh. “Oh.”

Sam arrived a few minutes later. The ends of his hair were wet with sweat, though his clothes were fresh and clean. 

As soon as he walked into the apartment, Jake said, “Well, look who decided to show up! Mr. Tardy Smardy.”

Sam scoffed. “How long have you losers been here?” He cracked open his water bottle and took a long drink.

“Like ten minutes,” Colby said.

“Oh.” Sam smiled sheepishly. “There was traffic.”

“You can run a mile in eight minutes, but you can’t make it here on time?” Reggie teased. “Weak.”

“She sent the text like twenty minutes ago! I didn’t know everyone could suddenly _teleport.”_

“Boys,” Hailey said, holding a hand up, silencing the next remark. She stood in front of them, other hand on her hip. “This is serious.”

“Sorry,” they muttered like children who’d just been scolded.

“The leader of the witch council visited me on Monday,” she began. “According to him, some witches have found the location of LA’s secret underground market. Intel has him believing Marcus Pierce sells his drug regularly there, and he wants to send someone in undercover to check the place out.”

“Oh shit, we get to be spies?!” Jake gasped. “Fuck yeah!”

Corey frowned. “Why does that involve us?”

Hailey crossed her arms. Her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s the weird part,” she said. “He asked for Colby specifically.”

His eyebrows furrowed.

Colby blinked. Then, he laughed. “Yeah, uh, pass.”

“He thinks that, because we’ve had the strongest connection to Marcus, we should be the ones conducting this operation,” she continued. “He didn’t mention it, but I know he was also thinking of Sam and Jake, since you guys were also at the church the night of Colby’s trial.”

“But neither of us,” Sam argued, pointing between him and Colby, “could do it because Marcus knows our faces. Actually, he knows everyone here except for Reggie.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to some underground witchy market by myself,” Reggie said.

“Perhaps someone could go as backup,” she suggested. “I never imagined anyone would go alone anyway.”

“Okay so,” Reggie began, “it can’t be Sam or Colby. I’ll go if I’m with someone, but—”

“Someone with magic has to be there to get in,” Jake interrupted.

Colby sighed. “Yeah, he’s right. One of us has to go.” He looked at Jake then Hailey.

“But not Hailey,” Corey added. “She’s too noticeable. It’s like bringing the governor to a California sting operation. If anyone sees you, not just Marcus, they’re going to get out before they’re caught.”

“So that really just leaves… me,” Jake realized. “And Reggie.”

Reggie inhaled sharply. “Not liking those odds.”

“Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be around those drugs again,” Colby added.

Jake groaned. “So, we’re back to just Reggie.”

“It _would_ make sense for you to go, though,” Hailey argued hesitantly. “You were told that your next buy had to come from there, and someone actually gave you the address. If anyone, they’d be expecting you.”

Reggie shook his head. “Any chance of him getting back on that stuff is too much of a risk.”

Jake picked at his nail polish.

They bounced ideas off of each other, trying out one team combination after another. Colby nudged Sam with his elbow, and Corey noticed for the first time that Sam hadn't said much so far.

“What’re you thinking?” Colby asked.

Sam’s eyes fluttered, like he focused on reality again. He blinked at Colby then looked around at his friends staring back at him. He asked, “Can we get outside help?”

Hailey hummed. “I don’t see why not. What do you have planned?”

“What about: Jake and Reggie as bait, and Colby and Val’s friend Jo as backup?” he said. “That way, if something goes wrong, we have three people with magic, one hunter, and you and Val would be on standby as the backup’s backup.”

The group was quiet for a moment, letting the information sink in. Most seemed to approve the idea. Colby nodded, whispering his praise as he kissed him on the temple. The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“There’s one problem with that though,” Corey said. “That still puts Jake near the drugs.”

“That’s okay,” Jake declared. “I think I can handle it.”

Hailey’s forehead creased with concern. “Are you sure Jake? We can figure something else out.”

“Yeah, I can do it alone,” Reggie added.

“No, I can do it,” Jake said firmly. “You can’t go by yourself. If they find out you’re not a witch… I don’t know what’ll happen, but it can’t be good.” He smiled reassuringly at his friends. “I’ll be fine.”

There was something weirdly familiar about this whole thing, and Corey couldn't figure it out. His eyes darted between his friends while the plan replayed in his head. Reggie and Jake: bait. Colby and someone else: backup. Hailey and someone else: standby. That left him and Sam, probably staying home, so—

He froze. Oh, oh, _oh—!_

_The Nothing Room. Sam angry, red-eyed. Hailey, scared._

“When is this happening?” Sam asked.

“The sooner the better. He wanted it done on Monday when he first visited, but he’s miraculously let me delay this long. I know I’m pushing, though. Probably no later than tonight.”

“Is this, like, an evening sort of thing?” Reggie asked. “Or are we going traditional with the witching hour?”

“The witching hour is three AM,” Sam said.

“It’s actually between two and four AM,” Hailey argued.

"So," Sam laughed, "three AM."

"Two, three, and four AM," she insisted.

Sam hummed. Hailey shook him off, her lips pressed into a small smile. “We won’t wait that long, though," she said. "Midnight or one at the latest.” She rubbed her temple. “I don’t want to be out all night for this.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Colby asked.

“If all goes well, I’m hoping only two or three hours. That should be about everything, so—Oh! I have one _major_ rule. It must be followed no matter what.”

The guys shared questionable looks as they muttered their agreements.

She took a deep breath, and suddenly, her eyes bored straight into Sam and Corey. “Those of us who are not involved _will not leave._ We don’t need a repeat of Ritual Night.”

“Okay,” Sam said. Corey nodded.

“I’m serious,” she stressed.

 _“Okay,”_ Sam shot back.

They held each other’s gaze. After a moment, she looked away and sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. She played with her fingers. “This thing is just… I’m nervous about it. I’m nervous about anything involving Marcus.”

Corey looked at Sam. They always teased Sam about Ritual Night maybe because, well, if they were going to mention anything from that night, it was best to joke about the least scary thing that happened. Sam didn’t mind either; Corey could tell. It was always in good fun. He’d say something if it bothered him.

Sam glanced at Corey. He didn’t say anything. In this case, he didn’t have to.

“We’ll stay out of the way,” Corey said this time, firmly, looking back at Hailey.

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay."

••••••••••

Hailey had calls to make, so the guys migrated across the hall. They split between apartments, everyone but Sam heading to Jake’s. Sam promised to be over soon, after he took a quick shower. Corey followed the mass absently, mind still reeling over their new plan. There was just… something telling him, _warning_ him that this wouldn’t be good. Maybe it was just, like Hailey said, because Marcus was involved. That fucker made everyone nervous.

“You good man?” Jake said to him. Corey blinked. They were the only ones in the hallway.

“Huh?” Corey replied. “Yeah, um, just thinking about something.” He followed Jake into his apartment. “Actually… it involves this, what’s happening tonight.”

“If you’re freaked as fuck, join the party,” Reggie said. He and Colby shared a laugh.

“No, I mean yeah, I am, but no.” Corey shook his head. “I had this… weird dream last night. None of you were in it.”

“You don’t dream about me?” Jake teased. He pouted. “I’m hurt, brother.”

“Sam was there, though.”

Colby hummed amusedly. He pressed his lips into a smile and raised an eyebrow. “Corey,” he began with a laugh, “should I start being concerned about Sorey?”

That made Corey snicker. “Nah man, he’s all yours. I’m just the side piece.” He and the others laughed. “No but Sam was there, and so was Hailey. They were… weird. Something was really off about the whole thing. I don’t remember a lot of it.”

“Sounds like it was just a strange dream, dude,” Reggie said.

“Yeah… the timing is just so weird with this thing happening tonight.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Colby said. “Weird dreams are just that: dreams.”

“Plus, we’re all nervous about tonight,” Jake added. “Maybe you’re just remembering it worse than it was because of this.”

Corey sighed. “Maybe.”

Probably.

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway through!! how are we feeling!!
> 
> also I guess it's still considered a sting operation if the people going undercover to an obviously illegal black market is only after one criminal?? I'm not sure, but it's valid in this story lol


	19. nothing room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The black market operation doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit it, I definitely got distracted Wednesday and Thursday because of the 10 year one direction anniversary party on twitter. it's been a while since I could blame them for procrastinating :'))

Actually planning and getting people involved in a Marcus Pierce Operation was far different from last time when time moved so quickly, it seemed Colby was only home long enough to fill Sam in on what was happening and say goodbye. That wasn’t to say this night went any slower—in fact, as soon as Valentina and her best friend Jo arrived to Hailey’s apartment, everything kicked in to hyperdrive.

Sam and Corey moved out of the way. They sat at the end of the couch, watching the chaos of their friends preparing for tonight. Colby and Reggie were wired. Apparently, taking a human approach was best when infiltrating magical locations. Magic could be detected, but a regular ear piece couldn’t. When they got inside the market, Jake and Reggie were going to continue on the main path while Colby and Jo would duck behind booths and stay out of sight. Hailey and Val would monitor the situation from the church.

“Why from the church?” Sam asked. His next question was going to be if he and Corey could accompany them to the church at least. He knew going to the market itself was off the table, but staying home while everyone else went on an undercover, dangerous mission? The FOMO was real. So was the worry for the safety of his boyfriend and best friends, of course.

Nobody heard him except for Corey. “Maybe that guy’s gonna be there,” he answered. “The leader dude.”

Sam reached for his takeout box on the coffee table. He and Colby kicked everyone out for the evening since, sting operation or not, Thursday was still Date Night, and they intended on keeping the new tradition alive. They wanted every moment they could take together before night fell.

Colby sat next to him with a sigh. He reached his hand up to run his fingers over the earpiece in his ear. It was black, blended in with his hair and his clothing. Though, Sam hoped nobody looked at him too closely. 

Sam offered his food box as he slurped a noodle into his mouth. “Kinda jealous that you’re going to another witch market without me,” he muttered.

Colby snickered. He grabbed the box and poked the fork around the noodles. “This team-up was your idea, remember? If you guys wanted to go, you could’ve said something.”

“But you wouldn’t have liked that, would you?”

Colby paused. He poked his tongue against his cheek and twisted a noodle around his fork. “No,” he admitted softly. Then he smiled again, promising, “We’re gonna visit a black market, I swear.”

Sam grinned. “That isn’t something I ever thought I’d hear.”

“I never thought I’d say it.”

When Corey stood to join the others, Val made her way over. She smiled sheepishly when Sam met her eye. She had her hands behind her back as she approached.

“Hey,” she said. “I know I said this before—I _think_ I said this before, that night that we, um—” She waved a hand toward Hailey.

Colby chuckled. “Yeah, we remember.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Well, let me say it again. Sober, this time—”

“You don’t have to,” Sam said. “I’m over it.”

Val shook her head. “But I’m _not.”_ She sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I’m sorry that I let my ignorance judge you before I got the chance to even know you. It was hypocritical of me anyways considering I was housing Taylor at the time.” She sighed heavily. “Oh, you know about Taylor don’t you?”

Colby nodded slowly. “Yeah… we know.”

“He was a kind person. A great father and husband. Not at all evil. And neither are you.”

Sam smiled. “I accept your apology, Valentina.”

“Call me Val, please.” She grinned at them and revealed a gift from behind her back. “I brought you guys a peace offering.”

Sam and Colby shared a surprised look.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Colby said with a laugh.

“Well when Hailey told me you guys would be splitting up tonight, I figured this would be perfect!” She held a box in her hands, small and wooden. When she unlocked it, two bracelets with leather bands lay inside. Each had a clear circular crystal the size of a quarter in the center of the band. “They’re bonding bracelets. This way, you’ll always know how your partner is feeling and how close they are.”

“How close we are?” Sam asked. He reached for a bracelet. He laughed. “Wait, are these just mood bracelets?”

“They’re _accurate_ mood bracelets. Here, let me show you.” Val popped open the crystal holder. Inside was a small silver saucer in the center and a tiny needle next to it. She looked at them sheepishly. “It does require a bit of blood though.”

Sam breathed a laugh. “Of course it does.” He took a deep breath before pricking his finger on the needle. He squeezed his finger over the saucer until a few drops of blood splattered on the silver.

“That should be enough,” Val said. She closed the crystal, and they watched it activate in second. The crystal shifted from clear into a deep purple. “That means you’re feeling calm right now.”

Sam nodded in approval. “Pretty accurate.”

“Colby, your wrist please,” she said. She tied the bracelet around his wrist.

He blinked. “Whoa, this is hot? Why is it hot?” His fingers slipped under the crystal. Then he grabbed Sam’s hand and held it to the bracelet. “Am I crazy, or is it hot?”

“The warmer it is, the closer your partner is,” Val explained.

Colby hummed. “That’s actually really cool.” He smiled at Sam. “And sweet.”

Just as Val finished tying Sam’s bracelet, Hailey announced, “Okay guys, we need to get going. Are we ready?”

 _No,_ Sam thought as he grabbed Colby’s hands. _A little bit longer? Maybe an hour? Maybe wait until the next day?_ No amount of time ever felt like enough when he knew they’d be apart for what felt like longer. He kissed Colby’s cheek. He pecked his lips, then when he pulled away, Colby chased him for another.

“You have to give me a better good luck kiss than that,” Colby said with a grin.

“I’m doing my best considering we’re on someone _else’s_ couch,” Sam whispered. They shared a laugh. He cupped Colby’s cheek and smiled. “Good luck.” He kissed his nose. “I love you. A lot.” His fingers curled in his hair. “And I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

Colby pressed his lips to Sam’s forehead, and they lingered for a few seconds. “I love you more,” he whispered. 

Sam snickered. “Debatable.”

“Yo lovebirds,” Jake called.

“Let’s goooo,” Reggie added.

Colby rolled his eyes, and Sam grinned. They joined their friends at the door, hand in hand. When they made it to the hallway, Corey peeled off from the group and waited by Sam’s door. He had a speaker in his hands along with a microphone from Hailey, similar to what they’d have at the church later.

Sam followed the group for a few more steps before he finally let go of Colby’s hand. Before he turned away, he rushed forward and pulled Colby into a tight hug.

“Be safe,” he whispered.

Colby buried his face into Sam’s neck. “I will,” he promised.

They separated reluctantly. Colby kissed him goodbye, and he rushed to catch the elevator that Jake was threatening to let close. He settled on the back wall, between Hailey and Reggie.

The doors closed on them, eyes locked, and slowly, Sam’s bracelet grew colder.

••••••••••

The Evergreen Cemetery sat atop a hill behind a bustling neighborhood, tucked away in a dark corner, seemingly forgotten by the rest of the world. Colby parked at the bottom of the hill. For a long moment, he and the others stared into the darkness ahead. They could only see as far as the headlights shone, which was the bottom of an iron arch that marked the graveyard entrance.. Moonlight peeked through the treetops, but other than a few slivers spotting the ground, they were surrounded by darkness.

“You’re _positive_ this is the place?” Jo asked from the backseat. She leaned forward onto the console. “I can’t even see anything.”

“This is exactly the place I’d expect to be jumped,” Reggie said.

“It’s what the GPS says,” Colby answered. He turned his phone for the others to see. True to his word, his Maps told them they were at their destination: _Evergreen Cemetery, Los Angeles, California._

Jake popped his door open. The interior lights flickered on, and he could see a few inches outside of the car. When he put his foot down on the ground, an insect scurried away from him.

“Let’s go then,” he said. “I don’t want to be here longer than we have to be.”

The others met him at the trunk. He and Colby used their phone lights for aid while Reggie and Jo grabbed the supplies: four flashlights, a bag of witch hazel, some vails of vervain and holy water, and two guns loaded with mercury laced bullets.

“What happens if there’s a werewolf in there?” Jake asked.

Jo reached into her back pocket. She revealed a small gray box, and when she shook it, it clattered. “Silver bullets,” she said, slipping it back in her pocket.

“How come I don’t have those?” Reggie said.

“Because chances are, they’ll attack you guys first.” She cracked a smile. “So, I can attack them from behind when we save you guys and take them out faster.”

“Thanks for reminding that we’re literally putting our lives in your hands.”

Colby grinned. “Who’s more capable than us?” He barely knew Jo, but after what he heard about her and the vampire, he was sure of his trust. Besides out of their group, their odds were better if they were the ones saving Reggie and Jake instead of the other way around.

Reggie made a face. “I can name like ten people, _at least.”_

After double-checking that they had everything, Colby shut the trunk, and they began their trek up the hill. Jo led the way with her flashlight in one hand, aimed straight ahead, and her gun in the other, resting above the flashlight. Colby was behind her, and Jake behind him. Reggie held up the end of the line with his hands full as well, though he kept his gun at his side.

They passed through the iron arch. Reggie shone his flashlight at the top of the arch where iron bars were twisted and curved into letters to spell out Evergreen Cemetery. Colby wasn’t sure about everyone else, but the sight definitely made him shudder.

 _“Hey,”_ Hailey’s voice cut through their ears suddenly, startling everyone but Jo, _“how’s it going?”_

“Well, I think you just scared the shit out of us,” Jake admitted.

“I hope she’s the scariest thing we hear tonight,” Colby muttered.

“We’re climbing the cemetery hill,” Jo reported. “Nobody else is around. I expected at least a few others around _the_ Los Angeles magical market.”

 _“Maybe it’s a secret,”_ Sam suggested. _“I mean… it_ is _a black market.”_

“Oh hey Sam,” Reggie said.

Sam laughed. _“Hey.”_

 _“I’m here too!”_ Corey cried.

“Guys,” Hailey warned sternly.

At the top of the hill, the trees were more scarce. The lined the outer edge of the cemetery, looming over the graves like shields. Moonlight poured onto the land. It provided enough light that they could see on their own. Colby stepped past Jo and stopped in front of a grave. The stone was too weathered to read what was originally on it. As he looked over the headstones, he realized most if not all were ineligible. He wondered how old this place was. He wondered if there was anyone around, watching them right now. Sam would know or Corey, maybe. Colby sighed and looked at the bracelet on his wrist. It was purple.

He unlocked his phone and quickly sent a text to Sam.

 **my bracelet’s purple,** he wrote. **how are u feeling??**

He smiled when he received a response in a few seconds.

_Sam:_ _Pretty okay all things considered. You’re white_

Colby: white as a ghost. i’m sure there are one or two around us right now 😖

_Sam: 😬 stay safe please_

“Back there,” Jake said. He pointed at a stone mausoleum standing at the center of the cemetery. It was the only stone half shrouded in darkness. _The moon’s angle,_ Colby reasoned. _Not all shadows are paranormal. Thank you, stubbornly skeptic brain._

He turned his flashlight on when they approached. The mausoleum doors were green with moss growing around the edges. He raised his light higher to read the name. In large, upraised stone letters: FORGOTTEN. 

“What kind of a name is Forgotten?” Jake asked.

“I have a bad feeling it’s not a name,” Jo said quietly.

In place of door handles were two half golden bowls stuck to the metal. _The offering plates,_ Colby realized. That’s how they got inside last time.

“How do we get in?” Reggie said.

“Blood, right?” Jake replied, looking at Colby.

“No, magic,” Jo answered. “Only magic opens the doors… so I’ve heard.”

“I want to!” Jake pushed past Colby and touched the door.

“Do you remember how?” Colby asked.

“Yeah it’s easy, brother. Focus energy and stuff.” Jake’s eyes fell shut. He inhaled deeply. A faint white glow began to outline his fingertips. It curved around his palm like running water and dripped off his wrist into the offering plate.

The doors inched open with a low rumble. Jake pulled his hand away and grinned at his friends. “Easy,” he said, strolling into the mausoleum.

Inside, the air was thicker. Moonlight streamed through glass stained windows lining the upper walls. Beneath the windows were four clear cut stone rectangles stacked on top of each other. Parts of the stone were beginning to chip away. Colby shuffled further into the room, and his foot stepped on something. When he looked down and shone his light on the object, his breath caught in his throat.

A dirty, ragged stuffed teddy bear lay on its back beneath his shoe. It had tears in its fur, and one of its eyes was missing. It wasn’t alone, though. Behind it was an old pocket watch with its glass face shattered. A few inches away lay a key ring. Necklaces littered the floor. Rings. Pocket knives. Bracelets. Dolls.

“What the hell?” Reggie whispered.

“No, no, no, we’re not talking about this,” Jo decided. She shook her head and rushed forward, searching the walls for something. “I’d rather be in the market surrounded by illegal witches than up here surrounded by things we can’t see.”

 _“They won’t hurt you,”_ Sam said. _“They’ll just try to scare you.”_

“That’s what I’m worried about!”

Colby cracked a smile. “You’re afraid of ghosts?”

“You’re _not?”_

“Of everything I _am_ scared of, ghosts really aren’t high on the list.”

Then, as if someone nearby wanted to test it for themselves, something ice cold swept across his neck.

“Ah!” he gasped. “Okay, okay—” He stumbled to the side.

Jo snickered. “Thought you weren’t scared of ghosts?”

“It _touched_ me!”

 _“Sure_ it did.”

“Hey if you kids are done bickering,” Reggie said from the center of the room, “we found the door.” 

Colby and Jo turned to them. Reggie knelt on the ground while Jake stood over him, flashlight aimed at a trapdoor in the floor. Reggie hooked his finger through a metal loop in the door and yanked it open. As Jake dropped the door to the ground, Jo, Reggie, and Colby peeked inside. There was a stone staircase leading down a stairwell lit with candles. They couldn’t see the bottom.

“This feels like an Indiana Jones movie,” Jo said.

“Who wants to go first?” Colby said.

“We should space this out,” Jo suggested. “If we’re about to walk straight into the market, we can’t be seen arriving together.” She pulled her hood over her head. “You go ahead, and we’ll count to twenty.”

The men nodded. 

Colby tugged at the sides of his hood. “Good luck guys,” he said with a reassuring smile. 

Jake nodded. “You too.”

Reggie volunteered to go first. He slipped his gun into his waistband and pulled his shirt over it. Then, he began the careful descent.

Jo and Colby counted twenty seconds before they headed downstairs. Colby went last. He didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to go first either. Besides, going last made him think of exploring with Sam, and his mind drifted to simpler times. Maybe, after they were finished with this supernatural business, they could get back to exploration videos.

He knew they were getting closer to the bottom when voices drifted up the stairwell. Light poured onto the last stairs as the walls opened into a larger room.

“Hailey,” he said quietly as he stepped off the last step.

_“Yes?”_

“We’re in.”

••••••••••

_Taptaptaptaptaptaptap_

Sam looked up from his phone to glare at Corey’s leg, which had been bouncing for twenty minutes. Corey stayed glued to the speaker Hailey left behind, listening to Colby and Jo argue about ghosts like they were discussing life or death information. Even Sam wasn’t _that_ worried about them—well, he at least wasn’t _showing_ it. He was trying to distract himself with social media, but he kept checking his bracelet every few seconds to see if the color changed.

“Dude, worrying isn’t going to make it go faster,” he said. He locked his phone and sat up with a sigh. “Though, I wish it did.”

“None of this feels right. I know you guys said it wasn’t a big deal, but I’m telling you, something’s off,” he swore.

“Of course it doesn’t feel right. They’re going to a _black market_ controlled by _witches._ _None_ of this is right!”

“No, it’s—” Corey paused to check the machine.

“They can’t hear us.”

“Just making sure.” Corey turned to him. “It’s more than _where_ they’re going. Something doesn’t feel right on _our_ end. Why would that Rodrick guy ask for Colby _specifically?”_

Sam frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Dude, in my dream… they lost contact with Colby.”

“What else happened?”

“I don’t remember a lot of it, but you were there. Your eyes were red. Hailey was there too. She looked freaked out. Nobody else was around though.”

“People have weird dreams.” He didn’t want to admit that his heart rate was definitely picking up the more he mulled over Corey’s dream. He didn’t want to even _entertain_ the idea because tonight was going to be _fine._ Everybody would get home safe, they’d arrest Marcus or whatever they’re planning to do, and everything would be okay again.

“What’re the odds that I have that dream, and then this whole thing happens?”

Not good, but Sam ignored that thought. He glanced at his bracelet again. White was gone, and purple took its place. Colby had mellowed out while Sam was no doubt inching toward white.

“Okay, say you’re right,” Sam began, “what do we do? How do we make sure whatever you dreamed _doesn’t_ happen?”

Corey gestured to the speaker. “We can start with this.” He leaned forward, pressed the red button next to the microphone, and opened his mouth to speak. Then he closed it and released the button. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Here.” Sam reached for the speaker as an idea popped into his head. He pressed the button and asked, “Hey Hailey, is it just you and Val at the church right now?”

_“Yes, of course. Why?”_

Sam met Corey’s confused gaze. He shook his head. “Just wondering. Listen, um, I know he said this earlier, but Corey’s still really freaked about his dream, and I… It’s starting to make me nervous too, so just be careful guys. _Please._ Especially you, Colby. And I’m saying that as your _best friend:_ be careful.”

“Okay,” Colby replied, confused. Then firmer, “I promise.”

“Sam we’d like to keep this line clean of any PDA,” Jake said in a trucker voice. “Thank you, over.”

Sam chuckled. He pushed the speaker away and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s all we can do, unfortunately,” he told Corey. “We don’t know what your dream means, and they’re already gone, so interfering would just be dangerous for all of us.”

“But if something _could_ happen, we can’t just sit back and watch!”

“I know. I have an idea, but…” Sam chewed on his lip. “Hailey told us to stay put. If we get involved, she’ll kill us. She’ll kill _me.”_ He rolled his eyes.

“If my dream is even _half_ right, Colby’s in trouble. Whatever idea you’ve got, we have to try it.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not an idea, really. I just thought that, if Rodrick is the one who wanted this to happen, wouldn’t he be overseeing it?”

“You think Hailey’s lying?”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know.” He reached for his phone when it buzzed on the table. It was Colby, asking what was happening. His color must’ve shifted. “What if we go to the church and interrupt this whole thing, and nothing bad happens? What if your dream is actually just a weird dream? They won’t be happy.” His fingers tapped against the side of his phone as he stared at Colby’s next. _Colby_ won’t be happy if they mess things up again. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

Sam walked away from the couch. He dialed Colby’s number and leaned against the counter as it rang. A few rings in, he ended the call. Colby tried calling him back, but he ignored it.

_Sam: Everyone can hear you speak!_

Colby: hang on

He waited impatiently for a few seconds, shifting his weight and pulling at his ring. When Colby called again, he answered hesitantly. “Hey,” he said, turning toward the living room, waiting for Colby’s voice to cut through the speaker.

“Hey, I took my earpiece off,” Colby replied. Sam sighed with relief when he didn’t hear that response fill the room. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“It’s Corey’s dream. He really believes there’s truth to it, and I don’t know if I do, but… if he’s right, I think we need to do something. I know Hailey told us to stay here, but if you guys are walking into a trap—if you’re in trouble—”

“Okay, slow down.” Colby spoke softly, and whether that was for Sam’s benefit or not, it did help Sam catch his breath. “Tell me the dream again.”

“He said we’re in a dark room, just me and him. My eyes are red, then Hailey shows up scared of something. And we’ve lost contact with you.”

“Okay.” Colby hummed thoughtfully. “If it’s just me that loses contact, I’ll make sure to stay with someone. I won’t go anywhere by myself. As for the rest of that… I honestly don't know what to make of it.” He laughed.

Sam smiled at his laugh. “Well, we have this theory that Hailey’s lying. Maybe.”

“Lying? About what?”

“I think Rodrick is actually at the church with them now.”

“Why would she lie about that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do. God, I hate just _sitting_ here.”

“I know.” He could hear Colby smile through the phone. “If you really think something’s going on at the church, you should check it out. I’ll keep watch on my end and make sure we all stay together, okay?”

Sam sighed. “Okay.”

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” Colby promised. “I’ll be home soon, love.”

He smiled. “You better be.” Sam said his goodbyes and hung up. With a deep breath, he turned to the living room. “Corey.”

“Hm?”

Sam nodded toward the door. “Come on. We’re going to church.”

••••••••••

“What’re you doing?”

Colby handed Jo his earpiece. “I need to make a call.”

“You need to make a call now?” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “In the middle of a top secret, highly dangerous mission?”

“It’ll take two minutes!”

“We’re supposed to stay together!”

“I’ll just be over there.” He waved his hand toward a booth selling exotic familiars. As he backed away, he repeated, “Two minutes.”  
She sighed. “Fine.” She watched him duck around the corner of a table and find a spot along the wall to make his call. She crossed her arms over her chest while her gaze floated around the area.

This was her first visit to something like this—a place for witches to buy and sell items that would be illegal otherwise on the surface—though not her first time experiencing a black market. She wasn’t as nervous about being down here as the others. Jo, coming from a long line of hunters, knew the ins and outs of an underground economy. Occult markets were similar to this—vendors behind shabby booths and tables, decorated with eyeballs, tongues, and the blood of Important People. They passed a seller with vials of US diplomat blood, and Colby stopped in surprise. He almost grabbed it to investigate, but Jo pushed him forward quickly—except instead of products designed specifically _for_ witches, occult markets had products _against_ witches and other supernatural creatures. Weapons, poisons, and everything in between.

A man walked toward her. His trenchcoat was long, bulky, and almost swallowed him up. He grinned wickedly as he approached, wrinkling a deep scar that cut through his left eye. She didn’t smile back. She turned to leave, pulling at the edge of her hood.

He caught her wrist. “Hey, hey, where are you going?” he cooed. Burns curled around his fingers like snakes. She wretched her arm free of his grasp. “Feisty,” he purred.

 _“Jo?”_ Val asked cautiously.

“I’m not interested,” she snapped.

“You haven’t even seen what I’ve got.” He peeled back one side of his coat to reveal layers of merchandize. On top were hex bags, small brown sacks tied with thin, shaggy rope. The next level had bones strung up with a dried out rope of red _something_ that Jo didn’t want to ask about. Some of the bones were small. She figured they were feline hind legs, since those were used in contacting the devil. Others were much larger, thicker. A few looked as long as her arm….

“Not interested,” she repeated. She felt someone at her side, and with a sharp inhale, fully expecting to see another seller, looked over. Her shoulders relaxed when she saw it was just Colby, slipping his phone back in his pocket, watching the stranger carefully.

“What about one of these?” the man offered. He reached into the other side of his coat and pulled out a medium sized black box. No wonder his coat was so bulky. He balanced the box on his palm and held it out.

Colby frowned as he looked it over. The lock on the front was sealed shut with candle wax. “That looks like a—”

“A Dybbuk box,” the man confirmed. His eyes were malicious and eager, like the energy from the box had already seeped into his bones.

“Oh,” Colby said, glancing at Jo. “Yeah no thanks, I promised my—”

“We’re still not interested,” Jo interrupted. She met his gaze with her own unwavering before grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him away. They slipped between booths until they were far away from the man.

“Word of advice,” Jo said as she handed his earpiece back, “don’t let anyone here know you have someone. Don’t let them know anything about your personal life, even if it’s just that you’re from here. The less they know, the better.”

Colby nodded. “Got it.” He looked around while adjusting his earpiece. “Uh, where are Jake and Reggie?”

They weren’t as far as it seemed. Behind Jo and Colby, weaving through sellers and buyers and a Dybbuk Box Woman trying to get rid of her goods were Reggie and Jake. Jake led the way, his eyes set on a familiar face on the other side of the crowd.

“Found Marcus and Tyler,” he informed quietly as he slipped past someone. Finally in open air, he looked back to make sure Reggie was still close behind. They shared an uneasy look before approaching their target.

Marcus and Tyler were sitting behind a stone table covered with a purple cloth. Marcus was in the middle of selling a bag of pills to a woman with dark red hair. Jake’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the drug. _There it is,_ he thought. There was a weird kind of giddy feeling in his chest. Nerves, maybe? Or… excitement?

Tyler raised an eyebrow at them as they approached. Marcus sat next to him after the deal closed. The woman turned to the guys, stopping them in her tracks. One of her eyes was missing. There were four dark scars cut through her eyebrow and disappearing into her eye socket. Jake swallowed thickly.

Marcus laughed after she left. “Scary, huh?” he said. He kicked his feet up on the table and pulled out his phone. “Werewolf attack. I’m sure she’ll use that power well.”

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Tyler said to Jake. “Been a while.”

“Two weeks,” Jake muttered. Two _long_ weeks. He glanced at the empty table. “Are you guys sold out?”

Marcus shrugged. “We might have more nearby. Interested?”

“No, we just came out here in the middle of the night without telling our friends because we’re _bored,”_ Reggie replied with an eye roll.

“Your friends don’t know you’re here?” Marcus smiled patronizingly. “Feeling a bit rebellious?” He smirked at Jake.

“Okay, can we just get it and go?” Jake asked. “I wanna go home already.”

Marcus and Tyler shared a look. Jake rocked on his heels. Reggie scanned the market aimlessly.

“Yeah fine,” Tyler answered finally. He and Marcus stood. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “C’mon, it’s back there.” Behind them was a dark, narrow tunnel entrance.

Reggie shook his head. “Why can’t you just bring it out here?”

“Because we’ve been here too long anyway,” Marcus said. He sneered at a man staring a few feet away. “The locals are beginning to set in. You’ll be our last sell, and then we’re going.” He chuckled. “So, we have no intention of kidnapping you or anything.”

“That’s exactly what a kidnapper would say,” Jake replied.

“Just go,” Tyler growled. “You guys are getting on my nerves.”

 _“Go,”_ Jo encouraged. _“We’re right behind you.”_

The brothers exchanged a look. Reggie sighed. Jake shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Fine,” Jake agreed.

  
  


••••••••••

When Valentina agreed to help out in this operation, when she learned it would be her and Hailey at the church while everyone else went on the mission… this wasn’t what she was expecting.

Other than the soft conversations coming from those at the market, uncomfortable silence engulfed Hailey’s office. Val and Hailey were sitting in the chairs in front of the desk, close enough for their elbows to touch. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to talk to each other. Dozens of conversation starters had popped in Val’s head since they first stepped foot inside, but she never voiced them because _they weren’t alone._ They hadn’t been alone the whole time. From the moment they parked in front of the church, they’d had an unexpected third party.

Rodrick, Grand Priest of the Witches. He was waiting on the front stairs when they pulled onto the lot. Neither were expecting him.

“Is that…?” Val had said, eyes nearly popping out of her head in shock. This wasn’t her first time seeing him in person, but it was only her second. Rodrick was _the_ boss. _The_ person to call the shots and _not_ piss off. The last time their paths crossed, she was being appointed High Priestess _._

“I told you he’s the one who suggested the idea in the first place,” Hailey explained. She couldn’t stop staring either. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that he’d want to be here.”

“Oh my god.”

Rodrick wasn’t much of a talker, despite the stories about him. She’d heard he was a surprisingly kind man for being the Grand Priest. As they made their way to Hailey’s office, Val almost couldn’t fight her grin while she thought of questions to ask.

But this man sitting before her was tense. He didn’t smile, didn’t talk. He leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth pressed into a firm line. His fingers tightened and relaxed around his arm. Val decided staying silent was the safer choice.

 _“Found Marcus and Tyler,”_ Jake informed. Val and Hailey shared a quick look. Good, maybe this could be over soon. Of course, they’re only entering more treacherous waters. Val pushed to the edge of her seat with anticipation.

Rodrick suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked it over and stood. “I need to take this,” he said, leaving the room.

Val waited until the door shut to admit, “I didn’t think the night would go like this.”

Hailey slumped against her chair and sighed. “Neither did I.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know why he’s so stiff tonight. He’s not usually like this… not that I know him well enough or anything.” They shared a quiet laugh.

“Isn’t it kind of weird that he made you lie earlier?” Val turned toward her until their knees touched. She leaned on the arm of Hailey’s chair. “Why doesn’t he want them to know he’s here?”

“I don’t know.” Hailey leaned closer to Val. “Higher ups are _so_ secretive sometimes. I don’t understand why we can’t know things when we’re _literally_ High Priestesses.”

“That’s the patriarchy at its worst.”

“Damn right.”

The office doors opened again. Neither woman bothered to look up, not until Rodrick’s stern voice cut through the silence, “Hailey.”

Their heads snapped to him, and they froze. Sam and Corey stood in the doorway. Corey was shocked, confused. Sam was… Val couldn’t pick out a single emotion. Shocked? Angry? Hurt? Baffled? They stared at Hailey in a stunned silence. Val swallowed thickly and looked at her as well.

Rodrick shoved them forward. He slammed the door behind him and stalked around the office to the desk. “What are they doing here?” he demanded.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Sam argued. He pointed accusingly at Rodrick. “You said he wasn’t here.”

Hailey jumped to her feet quickly. “Sam, I told you to stay home.” She reached for his arm, but he moved away.

“Why did you lie?” he asked.

“He told me to.”

“So you just did it? Because he said so?”

“Yes, Sam. He is the Grand Priest. He has more authority than I do.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now you better have a good reason for showing up here.”

Sam chewed on his lower lip. He looked to Corey, who glanced around the room sheepishly.

“I just have a really bad feeling about this whole thing,” Corey admitted. “Something’s telling me that this will go wrong. I really believe our friends are in danger out there!”

“Of course they’re in danger,” Rodrick interrupted. “They’re in the belly of the beast: an underground hotbed for illegal magical activity. Everything’s dangerous down there. They knew what they were signing up for.”

Sam poked his tongue against his cheek. “Yeah, about that…” He shifted to the side to look Rodrick head on. “Why would you choose a not-even-level-two witch for this _highly dangerous_ job when _we all know_ there are people better suited and experienced?”

“Because I know the connection he has with Marcus.”

“Then you should’ve sent me too.”

“This isn’t really your business, _seer.”_

Like a twig snapped, Sam’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and he took a heated step forward. “Actually it is,” he spat. “It is because that’s _my boyfriend_ , witch shit or not.”

Rodrick remained unfazed. “You two need to leave. You shouldn’t even be in this church in the first place.”

Sam shook his head. His gaze fell to Hailey. It shifted quickly from anger to pleading. “Hailey,” he said, “help me out.”

“Sam I understand your concern, but we can’t do anything from here—”

“Call it off! Tell them to come home! There’s a regular guy down there—he doesn’t have any magic!”

Rodrick blinked. “I was not aware of that, but… again, they signed up for this. They agreed to it, so your argument is invalid. Leave, Sam.”

Val reached across the table and grabbed the speaker. “If it helps…” she said, pressing the button. Into the microphone, she asked, “How’re you guys doing?”

Colby answered a second later, _“Fine. Reggie and Jake are talking to Marcus. Jo and I are just chilling.”_

 _“You’re making this sound like we’re just hanging out,”_ Jo said with a laugh.

_“I mean… this hasn’t been that eventful.”_

_“What about that guy with the dybbuk box in his coat?”_

_“Okay yeah, he was scary.”_

Rodrick smiled. “See? They’re fine.”

Sam and Corey looked at each other. Hailey tried ushering them to the door, and slowly, they listened.

“I’m sorry,” Val heard Sam say softly.

Hailey sighed. “We can talk about it later, okay?” While they opened the door to leave, she returned to her seat. Val offered her a weak smile before watching the guys leave.

But… they didn’t.

Sam paused in the doorway. His shoulders rose to his ears as he turned slowly, staring at the ground like there was something there. Val’s mouth dried at the idea of maybe there was.

“What now?” Rodrick asked with a heavy sigh.

Corey stepped out of Sam’s way as Sam followed something across the room. His once blue eyes were flushed with a glowing ruby that burned against his fair skin. Val froze when Sam’s gaze swept over her.

“What’s happening?” Hailey demanded.

“There’s a little girl telling me not to leave yet,” Sam said. When he looked at them, the red drained from his eyes in seconds. Val’s mouth parted with wonder and shock. His natural color poured in like a waterfall, washing the dark out with warm light.

“You’re going to listen to a child over two High Priestesses and a Grand Priest?” Rodrick scoffed.

“Yeah,” Corey answered nervously. “She can’t say anything, but I’m picking up some stuff.” He frowned. “She doesn’t want us to trust you guys. Except Val. She doesn’t know you.”

“Why would a child be haunting this place anyway?” Val asked. She was incredulous. “What child died here?”

“No one,” Hailey declared. “No one died here. She must, I don’t know, be attached to someone.”

“She was here before,” Sam said. “She was in Ruth’s room.”

Hailey’s face paled noticeably. Her fingers curled around the back of the chair. Val reached for her, for her hand or something, but Hailey inhaled a shuddering breath and shook herself out of whatever just happened.

“Sam, you’re just grabbing at straws now—”

“Hailey!” he interrupted, voice full of absurdity. Shock. Fear, maybe, if his scrunched face was any indication. “Why are you—Who _is_ she?”

“I don’t know!” Hailey cried. “I don’t know who she is—!”

“Enough!” Rodrick shouted. He bolted around the desk and stormed at Sam and Corey. They immediately stepped backward. Sam’s hand rested against his forearm. “If you won’t leave peacefully, I have no problem forcing you out. Tonight is too important to be distracted by a silly spirit. So, you have five seconds to leave on your own.”

“No, you can’t just shut us out like that,” Corey argued.

“Yeah sorry dude, but this isn’t any of _your_ business,” Sam snapped. _“Witch.”_

That didn’t sound right. Not coming from him. Val barely knew him, but she knew that wasn’t right. He didn’t mean it, she could tell by the way his face fell immediately, and he looked at Hailey quickly for a redemption. Everyone knew it. Everybody but Rodrick, who apparently only heard Sam spit the word with his whole chest because flames sparked at the tips of his fingers when he raised his hand above his head.

“Who do you think you are,” Rodrick growled, “to come into our coven and cause trouble? You’re not even of our kind.”

The blood drained from Sam’s face. He kicked the door shut by accident as he staggered back. He kept his hand on his forearm.

Corey turned to him with wide eyes. “Uh, Charlie?” he offered. _Charlie?_

Sam shook his head. His fingers rubbed over his arm. Val squinted. What could he possibly be doing?

Behind her, people yelled. Voices shouted through the speaker, frantic and overlapping each other.

Val gasped. She waved her hands at the others. “Guys!” she cried. “Listen!” She turned the speaker up.

_“Reggie?”_

_“Get off—”_

_“… can’t see!”_

_“Where—”_

_“Jo!”_

Hailey rushed to the table. She pressed the speaker button and spoke quickly into the microphone, “What happened? Are you guys okay? Hello?

“Hello? Can anyone hear me? What’s happening? Hello?”

••••••••••

They came out of nowhere.

Jo and Colby were only a few seconds behind Jake and Reggie. They slipped through the metal gate silently. They followed the footsteps of the group ahead. They didn’t speak to each other, but Colby made sure they stayed close. He thought they were being _so careful._

But then they passed an opening in the hallway, and everything went wrong. Yells echoed in his ears. Arms wrapped around his shoulders in an iron grip. Colby thrashed. He kicked his feet, tried jabbing his elbows into his attacker’s ribs, wiggled in the hold.

“Get off!” he yelled. 

His captor was dragging him away from the main hallway. No, no, no! “Jo!” he cried. Where’d she go? He couldn’t see anything. How did things get so dark so fast?

He was wretched this way and that, turning corner after corner it seemed. The longer they went, the more his chest tightened. He coughed, choked up on adrenaline and fear.

“Let me go,” he growled with less bite than before. Maybe there was a hint of plead in his voice. Where were they going? How much further?

Finally, finally, they stopped. He was shoved forward into a room lit by lanterns hanging along the walls. 

Sitting on the ground in the center of the room was Marcus Pierce.

He smiled up at Colby. “Hey.”

••••••••••

_“Here,”_ Jake answered after a painful five minutes. The room collectively relaxed. _“So are Reggie and Jo.”_

Hailey nodded. “Okay. Roll call, just to make sure the coms are still working.”

 _“I’m here,”_ Reggie confirmed.

 _“Me too,”_ Jo added.

“Colby?” Hailey said.

Silence.

Corey’s heart sank.

“Colby? Are you there?”

Corey stepped forward slowly. He couldn’t believe his ears. His stomach twisted with a disgusting sense of familiarity.

Hailey released the button and looked to Rodrick. Her eyebrows were furrowed. “We’ve lost contact with Colby.”

Sam and Corey stared at each other. It happened. _It’s still happening._

“Sir, what do we do?” Val asked Rodrick.

Rodrick wasn’t looking at anyone.

Hailey frowned. “Sir, what do we _do?”_ she repeated louder. “Nobody knows where Colby is.”

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick said quietly.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “What do you mean you’re _‘sorry?’”_ he ground out, voice dripping with barely controlled anger.

“I made a deal with Marcus to take care of the supernatural attacks happening around the cities,” Rodrick explained. “In exchange, he asked for Colby. No questions asked.”

When Corey looked back at Sam, his eyes were a blazing red, darker than he’d ever seen them before. Sam’s fingers pressed into his forearm. Beneath his hand, a demonic sigil with a ruby glow burned as hot as his eyes.

This was it, Corey realized. This was exactly what he saw. The Nothing Room.

He wanted out. 

He wanted to be _anywhere_ but there.

But this… 

This wasn’t a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo any ideas about what marcus wants colby for?? hmm
> 
> the next chapter is going to be really interesting to me to see how you all react. ahaha..... see you next week :))


	20. the summoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus tells Colby an unbelievable secret. Sam interrogates the Grand Priest. Jake, Reggie, and Jo do something… crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man this exposed more people than I was expecting. enjoy this large cup of tea! ;))

“Hey.”

Marcus sat in the middle of the floor, smiling across the room at Colby. He leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs out. He teased, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Colby turned to grab the iron door that slammed shut after he was shoved inside. He shook the bars roughly. There wasn’t a lock, but the door refused to budge. “Jake,” he said. “Reggie? Jo? Hailey? God dammit, someone answer me.”

“This room is charmed,” Marcus warned. “Nothing works in here—not even magic.”

Colby’s forehead rested against the bars. There were dozens of thoughts racing through his head like _‘the dream’_ and _‘lost contact’_ and _‘Corey was right’._ Oh god, Corey was right.

“How’d you know I was here?” Colby asked carefully. He slowly turned to Marcus again.

Marcus’ smile faltered. He looked away. “Well, that actually falls in with what I want to talk to you about.” He nodded at the space across from him. “Take a seat.” Colby scowled. He sat down against the wall. “Okay, fair.”

“So, you knew I’d be here,” Colby said. “How?”

“Your Grand Priest sold you out pretty easily.”

Colby’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Marcus smiled again, though it wasn’t cheerful at all. Colby couldn’t figure him out.

“I hear you’re getting pretty powerful,” Marcus began. “They’re probably telling you that a lot, aren’t they? Ruth and Hailey especially.”

“Yeah,” Colby answered begrudgingly. “What about it?”

“They told me that too."

"What?"

"I figured it was time we talked because you're in the same position I was four years ago."

"So you've done awful shit, and now you think I want your advice?" Colby laughed humorlessly. "You really are insane." 

Marcus scoffed. “What did I do?”

“What?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious, what do you think I’ve done? What’re they telling you?”

“You summoned a demon in Hailey’s old home.”

“Yeah.”

“That demon forced Hailey to fall in love with Casey, which wasn’t what she actually wanted. She didn’t like him like that, and he was a shit partner to her.”

“Oh well, _that’s_ not true. Casey came up with that love spell all on his own. I summoned it for a different reason, and she just happened to be there.”

“She just _happened_ to be there? Weird coincidence."

Marcus hummed. “Hear me out. We both know you don't have a choice anyway."

Colby sighed. He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he agreed. "Whatever."

••••••••••

Hailey and Val launched into an interrogation after Rodrick confessed what he’d done. The attention was quickly taken off of Sam and Corey, who’d interrupted unexpectedly. Hailey directed her anger toward her boss now, the Grand Priest, the Leader of the Witches, the _motherfucker who threatened the lives of Colby and the rest of their friends._

“How could you make a deal with Marcus?!” Hailey demanded.

Sam clenched his jaw hard enough for it to ache. His fingers pressed into his forearm, which burned with the boil of his blood. He looked at the broken sigil, uncovered and glowing a deep red. _“Sallos,”_ he called quietly. He looked around the room, wondering if it worked. How was he to know if it did or not? 

“Sallos?” Nothing, how could  _ nothing _ be happening?! Was there another step? 

“I thought he’d be best suited for dealing with the creature attacks around the city!” Rodrick defended. “You know, he’s rumored to be living with a _vampire?”_

“He is,” Corey confirmed.

“Which doesn’t sound like he’d be _for_ getting rid of them,” Val admitted quietly.

Hailey crossed her arms. “How’d you find him? He’s been exiled for three years. He was supposed to leave the city.”

He gave her a knowing look. “I think you and I both know he didn’t leave the city.”

“Okay, so how did you do it? And while we’re at it, let’s get everything out in the open.” Hailey gestured around the office. “Why does he still have the Sight? You told _everyone_ that you got rid of it.”

Rodrick didn’t answer.

“Hey,” Sam snapped, lifting his red eyes to glare at him, “she asked you a question.”

He glared back. “That’s on a Need to Know Basis, and none of you _need to know._ The only reason I told you about _this_ deal is because—”

“Because you got caught,” Sam interrupted. He glanced at his arm. While Hailey demanded Rodrick tell them the truth, Sam pushed up his sleeve. He touched the sigil on his upper arm. A red light bled into the shapes and letters. The glow dipped beneath his skin and shot down his arm to connect with the other sigil. His veins lit up like Christmas lights.

He felt… weird. His fingers tingled. When he looked around, his vision blurred. There was a warmth in his chest—an electric shock, over and over, so much that his heart seized and burned.

Val did a double-take when she saw Sam. Her eyes widened.

Corey spun around. He froze in his spot, jaw dropped.

 _“Tavarious,”_ Sam hissed.

The lights flickered violently. There was yelling, maybe. Sam couldn’t hear much over his blood rushing through his ears. He fell into the door with a gasp and grabbed his chest. He fisted his shirt and curled his fingers into his skin, as if that would stop the pain.

The office went dark for a split second.

When the lights flickered back on, they had new company: Charlie.

••••••••••

“When I first joined the LA coven, I was ahead of the other new people because I’d already been learning magic from my parents,” Marcus began. His voice echoed in the small room. “I met Casey and started introducing him to bigger spells that his teacher claimed he wasn’t ready for. That got the attention of the higher-ups. At first, I was praised for my power and experience over the other witches. The High Priest at the time even put me in a ‘special’ class with Hailey, who arrived a few weeks before me. For a while, everything was okay.

“I was living with Casey and another guy at this mansion—Well, you know the one.” Marcus smirked. “The whole time that I lived with them and studied magic at the church, I was trying to figure out what happened to my dad. I kept some of his spell books after we moved and found a list of demon names that he must’ve encountered. So, I wanted to summon one and see what they knew about my dad. Unfortunately that same day, Casey invited Hailey over.” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait,” Colby said, “so, you didn’t summon Sallos to make Hailey fall in love with Casey?”

Marcus scoffed. “No? Who summons a demon to make a girl fall in love with them?”

“I don’t know, it seemed like an evil enough plan for a villain like Casey.”

“No, he and Hailey are a whole different story.” Marcus shook his head. “I think a love potion was involved. Anyways… we summoned him, he refused to talk, and then I…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. He laughed sheepishly. “I didn’t know how to get rid of a demon, and neither did Casey, so we kinda left him there.”

Colby almost laughed. That sounded like a mistake he and his friends would make. He never imagined Marcus as a clueless teenager, but of course he was. They all were once. This felt weird.

“That’s what got you exiled, isn’t it?” he asked.

“No,” Marcus answered. “That’s not the _only_ thing.”

“Oh.” Colby did laugh that time. Marcus looked away as he bit back his own smile.

“After that, I wanted to look into the idea of veil hopping. I didn’t do it for my father’s sake—it was just a thought I had a few years before—but I knew if it worked, I might be able to figure out what happened. So for the next year, I spent my time on research. I got into more dangerous spells because regular magic wasn’t going to help me enter the veil. It was some black magic shit that the church tried hiding away in the library, but they didn’t do a good job at it.” He chuckled.

“When I finally had a plan to get through the veil, I knew I couldn’t do it by myself. I didn’t know who to ask, but I knew of a young girl in our coven who had a connection with spirits.” He nodded at Colby. “You know, kids are supposed to be more vulnerable to the afterlife and everything.”

Colby nodded slowly, trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

“I didn’t think about what going into the veil meant. I thought it would be easier than it was. I didn’t think it’d be so dangerous,” Marcus added quietly. Louder, he continued, “Ruth was my professor at the time. I asked if her daughter could accompany me in a ritual to grant the church eternal prosperity. She trusted me, which was more than I could say for Hailey. While I was easily the favorite in _that_ class, Hailey had become close to the High Priest. I didn’t realize why at the time, but it clicked eventually.

“Something went wrong when we tried to veil hop. I made it back out, but C—” He choked on her name, actually choked, with a violent cough and a gasp for air. Colby flinched. His eyebrows furrowed.

“You good…?” he asked cautiously.

“Can’t say her name,” Marcus said. He pressed a hand to his chest, took a few deep breaths, and continued, “She didn't make it out. I tried saving her, but my magic wasn't strong enough."

“Why wasn't it strong enough?”

“Well,” Marcus began again, laughing bitterly, “that’s where Hailey comes in. Turns out the High Priest loved her _so much_ because she…” His jaw clenched. “She was draining my power the whole time.”

••••••••••

Vampire speed was un-fucking-comparable to anything Jake had ever encountered. One second, he and Reggie were following Tyler and Marcus to “the back”—without even knowing what “the back” was. Mistake number one—and the next, they’re in a small storage room with only a few dim lanterns hanging along the walls and an iron barred door sealing them inside. 

Reggie and Jo were at the door, pulling at the lock and yelling down the hall for the missing teammate. Yeah, where’d Colby go? Nobody could reach him on the comms. Jake didn’t get a chance to see which way they took him. Up until a few seconds ago, he wasn’t sure if Reggie and Jo would even be with him.

“Hey! Come back here you bastards!” Jo yelled. She grabbed the bars and shook the door. The metal clattered and echoed loudly down the empty hallway.

“Colby!” Reggie tried. He slumped against the wall. “Fuck, how did this happen?”

“They ambushed us!” Jo cried. “But how did they know Colby and I were here?”

“Don’t vampires have heightened senses?” Jake said. “Maybe they like, heard your heartbeat or got your scent or something. Can vampires do that?’

“Or maybe this whole thing has been a trap from the start,” Reggie suggested with a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and tipped his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. “We’re so fucked.”

Jo pressed a finger to her earpiece. “Hailey,” she said, “Val, what do we do?”

Jake shuffled backward. He searched the room for an exit or something they could use to get out. He’d even attempt an air vent to escape if one was around. Caves probably didn’t have air vents, though. Damn. That would be cool.

When nobody answered Jo, she tried again firmer than the last: “Hailey. Valentina. We need help down here! We’re trapped, and Colby’s missing! What do we do?”

Still no response. Jake continued backward with a hand behind him, searching for the wall that would eventually—hopefully? He’s been walking longer than he expected—come.

“What if we shoot the lock?” Reggie suggested.

“It might ricochet.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

The backs of Jake’s feet touched something, finally, but it didn’t feel like a rock wall. He staggered forward quickly and spun around, hoping there wouldn’t be some cave creature glaring up at him.

Not a cave creature, but his stomach dropped all the same.

A pile of plastic bags filled with a white substance lay against the wall. He tentatively grabbed one and held it closer to the lanterns on the wall.

Pills.

The Global Drug.

Jake froze.

Behind him, Reggie called, “Dude, what’re you doing?”

His brother’s footsteps moved closer. Jake snapped out of his trance and tossed the bag onto the pile. He turned just as Reggie reached him.

Reggie looked past him with a frown. “Are those…?”

“Yeah.” 

“O-O-Okay,” Reggie said. He stepped around Jake and shoved him toward the front of the room. “No need opening that can of worms again.”

“Do you think they did this on purpose?” Jake asked. “Put us in here with that?”

Reggie frowned. “I don’t know. If this was a trap all along, then maybe. Maybe they’re hoping you’ll cave and take it again.” He paused as his own words sank in. Then he laughed. "Get it? They're hoping you'll _cave?_ And we're in a cave? Haha!"

Jake laughed, even though he didn't want to. _"Hilarious."_ He peeked around Reggie then rocked on his heels. “It’s tempting. Being able to see everything was _incredible,_ and the adrenaline rush was _so—”_

“Shut up,” Reggie interrupted sharply. “Stop thinking about it.”

“I’m just—”

“If you go near it again, I’ll punch you in the face.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “That’s dramatic.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah… I know.” Jake shook his head and turned to Jo.

“I don’t think using a gun on this is the right move,” Jo said, staring at the lock thoughtfully. “It would cause too much noise before we’re able to escape.”

“So, what’re you thinking?” Jake asked.

Jo hummed. “I have a bobby pin. I can try it the old fashioned way, but it’ll take me a minute.”

Reggie shrugged. “It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

Jo smiled. She knelt in front of the lock and slipped her bobby pins out of her hair. While she set to work, Jake looked back at the pill pile. It’s just sitting there, staring. _Taunting._

Reggie shifted in front of him and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want it,” Jake reassured both Reggie and himself. He _didn’t_ want it. He didn’t want the addiction again because it’s _dangerous_ and _painful_ and not _at all_ worth the… _the magical experience_ —No! “I’m just… looking.”

“Uh huh.”

An idea popped in Jake’s head. “Actually, hear me out.” He grinned at Reggie. “I have the _best_ idea.”

••••••••••

Corey staggered back when Charlie appeared in front of him. “Whoa!” he cried. He bumped into someone but was too shocked to apologize. In the blind of an eye, Charlie appeared out of nowhere, not at all surprised by his sudden entrance. Corey’s gaze drifted slowly, and he and Charlie looked back at Sam.

His eyes were still red, beaming bright like a forest fire. His left arm trembled with a glowing red bolt of energy connecting Charlie’s sigil with Sallos’. He reminded Corey of a storm: thundering anger that made his body tremble and searing red lightning branching down his arm, infecting every vein it can reach.

“What the hell…” Rodrick said.

Corey joined Sam’s side. “Thought you were gonna summon Sallos?” he said quietly.

“Sallos is a pacifist.”

His heart sank.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So what do we have here?”

“Rodrick has a secret alliance with Marcus Pierce,” Sam explained evenly. “He’s refusing to answer any questions.”

Charlie turned to Rodrick. His brown eyes flooded black. He smirked. “I _see._ Torture?”

Sam shifted his weight. “Just get him to talk. Please.”

Charlie grinned. _“Torture.”_

“Enough!” Rodrick bellowed. He stepped toward them with tight fists at his sides. “I don’t know what magic you just did, _seer,_ but your light show isn’t going to—”

Charlie had him pinned to the wall by his throat before Rodrick could say the next word. His fingers curled into Rodrick’s neck carefully, like he knew the perfect pressure points to make him squirm. 

Val and Corey gasped. Hailey grabbed the edge of the table in surprise. Sam flinched.

Charlie laughed darkly. “Scared yet?” he teased.

Corey definitely was. He looked back at Sam with wide eyes. Was this really the plan? _Torture?_ No, surely not. He knew Sam. This wasn’t… him.

It wasn’t. It couldn't be.

But… it _was._ At least in this moment. Nothing possessed Sam to make these decisions. _He_ chose to call Charlie over Sallos. He _chose_ this, but… why?!

Hailey tentatively stepped forward. She threw an uneasy look at Corey and Sam as she approached Rodrick. Then her eyes darted to Charlie. She stopped a few feet away.

“How long have you been in contact with Marcus?” she demanded. She fidgeted with her hands behind her back.

“How dare you think you can just—” Rodrick’s words crumbled into a tight gasp when Charlie tightened his grip.

“Trust me, you don’t want to test how far I’ll go,” Charlie warned. “I don’t give a damn about any of you witches. My kind likes killing you for _sport.”_

Corey shuddered. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. Last weekend, Charlie was a friend. Well, he certainly wasn’t an _enemy!_ And now he’s… _a demon,_ Corey had to remind himself. _Charlie is a demon._ No matter how harmless he seemed in Salem, no matter how helpful he was or how much he seemed to care for Arthur and Maggie, it didn’t really change anything. He was still created from evil and hellfire, and this… this was _true_ demonic nature.

“F-Fine!” Rodrick stuttered. “I never lo-lost contact! I—” he coughed— “I've always been keeping an eye on him, ever since—” His head fell against the wall. Face blood red, he stared at the ceiling as Corey swore he watched his own light drain out of him.

"Charlie!" Corey yelled desperately. Was yelling at a demon a good idea? Would it even work? Would Charlie listen? Would he care? He didn't know, but—but he couldn't just watch _this_ happen! Corey turned to Sam. "Sam!" he pleaded. What _was_ this? What're they _doing?!_

Charlie released his hold on Rodrick. He didn't let go, but when Rodrick slumped against the wall, he seemed to breathe heavier than before.

Sam avoided Corey's glare.

"Ever since what?" Hailey demanded.

"Ever since I tried removing his Sight. I wasn't able to do it though, so I took his magic. Most of it." 

Hailey frowned. "You took his magic?"

"You're lying," Sam declared. "He's powerful as fuck."

"No—no!" Rodrick shook his head. "Not lying. When we realized we couldn't take the Sight, we stripped him of most of his magic, so he wouldn't be a threat to us or anyone else in his coven."

"Then what happened?" Corey asked. "Was he just so powerful that even taking most of his magic didn't affect him?"

Hailey shook her head. "No, he was never extraordinarily strong. Taking his magic should have the same effect on him as other witches, so…" She crossed her arms and glared at Rodrick. "Why didn't it?"

"I don't know!" Rodrick cried. "Honestly! The reason I kept it a secret is because I…" He sighed. "I thought I made it worse. I don't know how, but something was different about him. Something I couldn't control. So, I exiled him and told our people that he was taken care of. I told you that he was no longer a threat for reassurance."

"But he _is_ a threat?" Val asked.

Rodrick sighed. "I'm not sure _what_ he is."

"Yet you still went to him for help—" Sam argued.

"It's my way of keeping an eye on him—"

"By sacrificing other people?!" Sam shouted. He pulled at his hair and paced behind Corey. "Jesus, no wonder you thought he was some kind of _'uncontrollable'_ problem! How would you know anything about facing real threats when you just brush everything under the rug and send other people to fight _your_ battles?!" He stormed forward, baring his teeth and clenching his hands into fists. Corey shoved him back.

"Hey," he warned.

"Sam, I think you need to step out," Hailey said.

"What?" he snapped.

She met his glare with her own. "You've done your part, and now we—" she gestured to herself and Val— "as High Priestesses have to do ours. Rodrick has been lying to us and the rest of the covens this whole time. This is a matter to be handled by the Council. You and Corey need to leave."

Charlie backed off. Rodrick glared as he turned to leave, and Charlie snarled in response. Rodrick pressed flat against the wall, eyes wide with fear.

Corey pushed Sam toward the door. The trio left, and the door fell shut behind them.

Sam turned to Charlie. "Thank you," he said.

"Yeah, whatever." Charlie shrugged. "If we're done here, I'm going to get going."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, see ya."

"Later," Corey added distractedly.

Charlie left as he arrived: in thin air, without a trace.

In his absence, a thick silence fell over the men. Sam took the lead down the hall. His hands fidgeted while Corey fell in step beside him. Neither spoke. Corey didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. Was he angry? Afraid? Just glad to still be alive?

"Corey—" Sam began.

"Let's wait until we get back to your place," Corey interrupted. He shook his head. "I don't… I'm still thinking over what just happened."

Sam nodded quickly. He looked at his bracelet; his fingers brushed over the purple stone.

••••••••••

“What do you mean she was draining your power?” Colby asked. “Why would she do that?”

“Because a higher up told her to, and she was new to our world.” Marcus shook his head. “I always thought the High Priest paired us together because we were new to the coven. Turns out, he just wanted someone to get close to me. I overheard them talking one day. He made it seem like keeping me under control was her soul purpose. She did it with no questions asked.”

“Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing,” Colby defended. “She said she didn’t know anything about magic when she first moved to LA.”

Marcus stared. Colby held his gaze. Marcus looked away and hugged a knee to his chest. “I told Hailey and Casey about the failed veil hopping attempt a few days after it happened. Casey was my only friend in the coven, and by relation, so was Hailey. I know what she did because she admitted to knowing something about the power draining. She didn’t say it was her, but I put the pieces together later. We made a pact that day not to tell anyone about what happened to C—” Marcus coughed into the crook of his elbow. Colby grimaced. “To the girl,” he continued after a few deep breaths. “I created a potion that wouldn’t allow us to speak her name, as you can tell. I thought that was the end of it.

“Shortly after, I summoned another demon. I did some research and believed it was responsible for giving my father the Sight. It wasn’t.” His hands slowly curled into fists. He looked at the ground. “By then, I knew a few spells to use against demons. It was angry that I summoned it, so I tried an exorcism before it could do any damage. My magic was too weak. It failed me _again._ I received the Sight that day. 

“A few days later, I was standing trial in front of Rodrick and the witch council for crimes accused by people in my coven. The first was summoning a demon in the mansion. Our roommate Nathan is the one who ratted me out.”

“Wait, Nathan?” Colby said. “Like, that guy from the Witches Forest?”

Marcus nodded. “Yeah. The next was from Ruth. Word had gotten around about her daughter’s death. The story I made up, and the one that’s told now, is that a werewolf killed her. I told her that I tried fighting them off, but I was too weak. She said she didn’t blame me…” Marcus climbed to his feet and paced across the room.

Colby stayed on the ground. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched him, this Bad Guy, and he considered maybe… _maybe_ he wasn’t so bad.

Marcus leaned against a wall and sighed. “She said she didn’t blame me, but when Rodrick questioned people about the werewolves, she threw me under the bus. She said I was the one performing a ritual when they attacked. There’s not a lot of room to defend yourself when you’re pinned to the crime scene.

“My last accusation came from Hailey. She came forward and told Rodrick and the High Priest that I was performing reckless magic. She told them that I couldn’t be controlled, and that’s when I put it together: she was the reason I was too weak to save the girl. That girl died _because of her!_ She was the entire fucking reason I got the Sight in the first place! Which, ironically, is the very thing people are afraid of when they think of me, isn’t it? My ‘connection’ with dark spirits or whatever? Yeah—” he laughed bitterly— “it’s _her_ fault!”

His anger echoed off the walls and drifted down the hallway. Marcus turned to the wall and drove his fist into the stone. An audible _crack_ cut through the room. Colby froze.

“Look,” Marcus said with a wavering voice, cradling his arm against his chest, “I know they’ve painted me to be the bad guy of this story. And maybe I am because I know I’ve done unforgivable things.” Marcus’ eyes glossed over with tears as he carefully prodded his injured knuckles. Chills ran down Colby’s spine. “But they aren’t perfect either. None of them. Not Casey. _Not_ Hailey. Right now, they’re making you out to be this _special_ person because you’ve been in more fights than a regular level one. Sorry, but you’re not special. You’re not some Chosen One. Don’t let them convince you of that, because just when you start believing it, they’re going to swoop in and take everything from you. I mean, just look at what they did when you refused the coven at first.”

 _A kidnapping,_ Colby recalled. _A trial._ They wouldn’t take no for an answer. He swallowed thickly.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he asked carefully, climbing to his feet.

Marcus hummed. “Ask Hailey about the girl. If she can say her name, she’s lying. Then you’ll know.” He smiled again, smug this time. “And if she _is_ lying, can you imagine? Her keeping that secret from Ruth all this time?” He laughed.

“I have a question,” Colby said.

“Hm?”

Colby leaned against the wall. He shoved his hands in his pockets and met Marcus’ eye. “How did you meet Sam?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ve said this.”

“Then say it again. In a way that makes sense.”

“It was last year. August. I was back in the city and actually going out for the first time in years. I didn’t know who he was, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on.” He laughed to himself. “He was talking to two women. One was dead. He looked terrible and really afraid of the world.” Colby’s heart ached at the information. “I would’ve stopped to help, but I—” He stumbled over his words. He blinked and looked away. “I had other things to do. I ran into him as he was walking away, literally. I apologized, he didn’t, and we went our separate ways.”

“But why did you reach out to him months after that?”

“Well I would’ve done it sooner, but I was dealing with my own shit. It was my first time back in the city since I’d been exiled. I was too busy staying low and off anybody’s radar.”

“Which you did by taking a walk in the middle of the day….”

Marcus laughed, and Colby smiled for all of two seconds before he realized who he was sharing a moment with. 

“Yeah, I guess that wasn’t very smart.”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway behind Colby. They were quiet at first, faint and distant. With every second, they grew louder. Louder. Louder, until they were right outside. He froze against the wall. Marcus looked past him and nodded at whoever was at the door.

“It seems our time is up,” he told Colby. “You are no longer my hostage. Be free or whatever.” He waved his good hand toward the door.

Colby didn’t move. “What?” he said. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that. Your friends are down the hall. Get out.”

Colby hesitantly took a step toward the door. He kept his gaze on Marcus until he faced the exit, and then his eyes darted between him and Tyler. Were they really going to just let him go?

Tyler unlocked the door. He held it open boredly, like he couldn’t care less about Colby. His attention was over Colby’s shoulder anyway.

Colby walked swiftly down the hall until he looked back and saw Tyler was gone. Then, he broke into a jog. As soon as he exited the room, his friends’ voices flooded his head. They were all together, it sounded like, and looking for him!

“Guys,” Colby said, “can you hear me?”

 _“Colby!”_ Jake cried.

 _“Dude, where the hell have you been?!”_ Reggie demanded.

“Brother, long story. Where are you?”

Right as he asked, he saw them. They were in the main hallway, the last place before their separation. Jake and Reggie had their backs to him. Jo bounced on her heels and looked around the hallway continuously. When she finally spotted Colby, her shoulders dipped, and she sighed with relief.

“Finally!” she whispered loudly.

“Sorry I couldn’t get away from my _kidnapping_ quick enough,” he replied with an eye roll.

 _“We_ got out just fine,” Reggie retorted. He smirked.

“Guys!” Jake hissed. “We have to _go!”_

Jo nodded. “Right, he’s right. Let’s go. Quickly.”

Colby frowned. “Are you guys—”

Reggie pushed him toward the exit. “Questions later. We need to move.”

Confused, Colby jogged to keep up. He noticed they were running weird, arms wrapped around their bodies instead of pumping at their sides like Colby. What did—Huh? What the hell did he miss?

They didn’t slip through the market unseen, though nobody cared enough to stop and ask what they were running from. Colby was thankful. He kept his head low as he weaved through people and vendors until they reached the stairs. His friends took them two at a time. The further they climbed, the louder their steps became in the growing silence. He finally heard the rattles and crunches in their movements. He didn’t ask—questions later, as he unwillingly agreed.

When they were halfway up the stairs, something slipped out of Reggie’s jacket. It bounced across the stones and landed under Colby’s foot. He stumbled and caught himself on the wall. Above, Reggie and the others kept going. They didn’t notice he’d fallen behind. 

With an eyebrow raised, Colby bent down to grab the object. It was a clear plastic bag sealed with a zip tie. He held it near a lantern on the wall, trying to figure out what was inside. Whatever it was filled the bag halfway. He squinted. They were small, _round…_

His jaw dropped.

Oh shit.

“Hey!” someone shouted below. Colby looked down. A pale woman with _fangs_ for _teeth_ bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Two more followed right behind her.

_Oh shit!_

Colby hugged the back to his chest and scrambled after his friends. He pressed his fingers into the stone walls to push himself forward. His stomach leapt to his throat. Two steps at a time—he eyed the stairs coming at him in a blur. One misstep and he’d come crashing down. 

His breathing came out in short, quick huffs. Almost there. He could see the top. 

Just as Reggie disappeared into the dark outside, something grabbed his ankle.

“No!” he shouted as he crashed against the stairs. His elbows bounced against the stone, and his arms buzzed with pain. He hugged the bag tighter. “Reggie!” he shouted.

A hand wrapped around his other ankle. Colby inhaled sharply and thrashed his feet. He pushed himself up on his knees and looked back at the woman. She snarled at him, ravenous. 

“Reggie!” he screamed again, desperate. He kicked the woman in the face. She screeched in pain but didn’t let go.

“Duck!” someone called from above.

Colby flattened against the stairs and threw his hands over his head.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The grip on his ankles disappeared. He peeked through his arms hesitantly. The woman and two other vampires withered in pain a few steps down. Blood gurgled from their wounds and splattered across the stone.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind. “Brother, are you good?” Jake asked. He knelt in front of Colby. “Hey man, we have to go. Come on.”

Colby shook himself back to reality. Right, they still had to get out of there. With Jake’s help, he climbed to his feet. Jake grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him over.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Are you good? Can you walk?”

Colby nodded. “Yeah I’m good, I’m good. Let’s go!” He pat Jake on his back and followed him up the stairs. “If they didn’t know we were here before, they definitely do now.”

Jake breathed a laugh. “No shit.”

Reggie waited at the top of the stairs with his gun locked on the three vampires below. Colby squeezed his shoulder as they ran past. When he looked back, Reggie was jogging just behind them.

Jo was already in the car with the engine running. When she caught sight of them, she leaned out the window and shouted, “Hurry up!”

Colby raced around to the passenger side while Jake and Reggie dove in the backseat. Jake punched the ceiling.

“Go, go, go!” he yelled. Reggie shook the back of Colby’s seat eagerly.

Tires screeched and rocks spit up behind them as Jo floored it out of the parking lot. They raced down the road with such speed, the car shifted and slid across the gravel. At first, anyways. As they left the Evergreen Cemetery in the rearview mirror, Jo visibly relaxed. She seemed to revel in the laughter behind her when the car zigzagged suddenly, so she kept it up. Their fear chipped away and dissolved into adrenaline induced chatter and shouting. 

Colby held onto the handle above him with a death grip, but his chest was loose with easy breathing and giggles.

Only when they reached the main road did they calm down. An easy silence fell over them while they caught their breaths.

“How much did you guys get?” Colby asked, turning in his seat to look at the brothers.

Jake and Reggie shared a devious look. Reggie pushed a light on above while Jake unzipped his jacket. Ten flat, clear bags full of pills fell onto his lap and the floor. Reggie followed suit a second later with another nine bags piling between them.

Colby’s jaw dropped. “No way…” He looked at Jo. “You too?”

She smiled innocently.

“Oh my god,” Colby muttered. He turned back to Jake and Reggie.

Jake grinned ear to ear. “Yeah,” he said, “we just robbed Marcus fucking Pierce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so umm... how're we feeling? what're your thoughts on marcus' story? do you think he's telling the truth?
> 
> ALSOOOO HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY INFINITEKITTIE!!!!!!! I hope you had an awesome day :)))


	21. clara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the anniversary of Clara's death.

Hailey told them to go home, for some reason. After they’d already prepared how to tell Hailey and Val about what happened, after Colby had finally focused on facing her again so soon with Marcus’ story still fresh in his mind, Hailey sent them home.

“Something has come up here,” she told them. “It’s a Council issue. Drop Jo off at the church, and go home.”

They did. Nobody questioned it. Colby _wanted_ to question it. He’d always been curious, especially about things he’s not supposed to know about, but now Hailey could be a _liar._ She could be sneaking behind their backs and plotting against them—him. She could be a threat to him, if Marcus’ claim held any truth. It sounded ludicrous to even consider—she’s his friend, and even before they were friends, he didn’t really see her as an enemy—but he had to ask. He had to _know._

He stayed quiet all the way to the floor of their apartment. He decided his next move quickly, before his mouth moved faster than his brain: fill Sam in on what he knows, and go from there. Sam would know what to do. Even if he didn’t, he’d probably have a better plan than just confronting Hailey head on. That could work, but what if she _was_ lying? What if Marcus _was_ telling the truth? Then what? She’d be a threat to them. _They’d_ be a threat to _her_ for knowing her secret. Who knows what she’d do then?

“We’re still telling Corey and Sam about tonight though, right?” Jake asked when they stepped off the elevator. He bounced with excitement. “I have to let someone else know that we screwed Marcus Pierce over.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell them,” Colby said with a nod. “We have to check with them anyway. They went to the church to tell Hailey and Val about Corey’s dream.”

“What about it?” Reggie said.

“I don’t know, they were just really spooked.”

A lock clicked ahead of them, and someone stepped into the hallway. Their door shut rather loudly behind them. They turned away from the elevators, pulling their black hood over their head as they went. There was a large white X on this guy’s back.

Colby frowned. “Sam?” he called.

Sam kept walking.

“Uh, I’ll be in there in a minute,” Colby told them as he broke into a jog. He hurried down the hall, past his door without a glance. Luckily, their floor was a square with only one elevator. So, Sam couldn’t get away that easily. That was a silver lining in an otherwise unsettling situation. Didn’t Sam hear him? It wasn’t like the hallway was _noisy._ And where was he off to anyways, at one in the morning?

The floor corners of the building had open balconies overlooking the city. Sam wasn’t at the first one. Colby picked up his pace; now, he was getting worried. He glanced at the bracelet, warming with each passing second. An ugly mixture of orange, black, and white glared back at him.

To his relief, Sam stopped at the second corner. He’d backed himself into the wall, leaning against the railing, head in his hands and fingers curling in his hair. Colby approached cautiously, stomach in his throat. 

“Sam,” he said quietly. He inched closer, slow at first, but when Sam dropped his hands, he rushed to close the distance. He enveloped Sam in a tight hug that only tightened when Sam finally snapped out of whatever he was trapped in.

“It’s okay,” Colby whispered in his ear. “I’m here, it’s okay. Jake and Reggie are back in the apartment—we all made it back safe. Everything’s okay, just breathe. Breathe, love.”

Sam’s fist tightened around the back of Colby’s jacket, and he buried his face in his shoulder. Colby’s heart was a painful thud in his chest. Something didn’t feel right here. He looked at the bracelet again: orange, black, and white. What did that _mean,_ though? What was happening?

“Hey,” Colby said, daring to break away enough to look down at him, “what’s wrong? Are you okay? Please tell me what’s wrong.” He cupped Sam’s cheek with one hand and brushed his bangs out of his eyes with the other. 

Sam didn’t meet his gaze. Actually, he pushed himself out of Colby’s touch all together. He remained against the wall, in front of Colby but in his own space, so Colby respected that. “I made a mistake,” he admitted softly.

“What do you mean?”

“We went to the church to warn them about Corey’s dream. Rodrick was there.”

Colby frowned. “Hailey said he wasn’t.”

“She lied.”

Chills ran across his arms. Right, maybe he should start getting used to hearing that.

Sam continued, “He admitted tonight was a trap for you. He’s been working with Marcus this whole time, and—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. “God, I got so _mad._ I was pissed that he knowingly put you in harm’s way like that. I just….” His eyes squeezed shut, and when he opened them, they were glossy. Colby’s heart sank.

“I don’t like this power.”

Colby’s eyes widened. “You used it? Summoner’s magic?”

Sam nodded slowly. “I think it… I think it feeds on negative emotions. Makes them stronger? I tried explaining what happened to Corey just before you guys got back, but… I don’t know.”

“What?” Colby reached for his hand.

“I—” Sam sighed— “I summoned Charlie. I told Corey I was going to summon Sallos, and I really tried, but it didn’t work. I didn’t want to admit that it didn’t work, so when Charlie showed up and Corey asked, I said… I reminded him that Sallos is a pacifist.”

Colby blinked. He started to say something, but Sam cut him off, “I _know_ how creepy and dark that sounds! I didn’t mean to say it, but Rodrick was gonna—fight us or something, I don’t know, and I was scared, and—”

“Hailey didn’t help?” Colby interrupted. “Val?”

“No.” Sam pushed his bangs back and shook his head. “No, neither did. I think it was like a seniority thing, you know? He’s The Boss.”

“She still could’ve done something.”

“I don’t blame her.”

Colby frowned. Maybe _he_ did.

“Anyway, I’m just—” Sam dragged a hand down his face. “I just needed to get out and clear my head. I told Corey what actually happened, but I didn’t stay around long enough to hear his response.”

“He’ll understand,” Colby reassured. “So will Jake and Reggie.” 

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. I know you’re right, I’m just…” He shook his head. “What am I saying? _You’re_ the one that just came back from…” He frowned. “What happened exactly? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Colby waved him off. He grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him toward their apartment. “Come home, we’ll talk there.”

They made it two steps before Sam looked to his left and frowned. His eyes flooded red. Colby froze. “What?” he asked.

“Sorry, it’s just noisy in this corner.”

“Noisy?”

Sam sighed loudly. He tugged Colby forward. “This guy died by food poisoning, but _he_ thinks it was _murder.”_

Colby laughed out loud then immediately covered his mouth. He felt eyes on his back instantly. “Oh, I didn’t mean to laugh,” he admitted quietly.

Sam glanced at him with his lips pressed together, trying in vain to fight a smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “I think he’s just mad he’s dead.”

“That’s fair, though.”

“Yeah, but he’s accusing the man on the second floor after _one_ date with him.” Sam huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Who knows? Maybe there’s an actual murderer in the building.”

“There is.” Sam chuckled. “She lives across the hall.”

Colby felt his heart sink all over again. “Right,” he agreed softly. Sam looked over with a raised eyebrow. Colby waited for the questions about his mood change, but they never came. 

When they reached the apartment, Jake stood at the back of the room, proudly showing off his bag of pills. Corey and Reggie sat on the couch, Reggie texting and Corey watching Jake with his face frozen in shock. Colby chuckled.

“Sam!” Jake cried when he spotted them.

“ Jake, shh!” Sam scolded. “It’s one AM; I don’t want a noise complaint.” He locked the door behind them.

“Sorry,” Jake said with a quieter voice. “Sorry, I’m just _so_ fucking excited about this. Look!” He held the bag out while Sam and Colby headed for the living room. Colby sat next to Corey.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Corey replied. “What happened to you tonight?”

“Oh, you know. Kidnapped.” Colby waved him off. “The usual.”

“Is this the drug?” Sam asked. He turned to the others with wide eyes. “How the fuck—”

“They put us in the room with it!” Jake said with a laugh. “Dumbasses.”

“We stole everything we could,” Reggie added. He pointed to the kitchen. “The rest is over there.”

“The rest…?” 

“So,” Colby said to Corey while Sam inspected the bags of drugs, “did you tell them about what happened at the church?”

“Yeah.” Corey eyed him. “I told them exactly what Sam said happened: he tried summoning Sallos, but it didn’t work.”

Colby nodded. “Okay.” He chewed his lip. “Was it bad?”

“He looked exactly how he does when he usually sees a ghost. The scariest part was Charlie being, well, a demon.” Colby paused, then his eyes squeezed shut. “No actually,” he said, shaking his head, “that’s not entirely true—”

“What happens now?” Sam asked. He had a bag in one hand and a pill in the other. “I mean, Marcus has to be pissed about this.”

Reggie snickered. “Hell yeah he was. I shot three more vampires during our escape. I also totally saved Colby’s life.”

“Yes you did,” Colby agreed. “It would’ve helped to know what we were running from, though.”

“If you’d gotten out quicker, we would’ve had time to tell you,” Jake teased.

“Brother, magic didn’t even _work_ in my room.” Colby laughed, eyes falling to the ground when he felt everyone staring at him. “I had zero chance of getting out on my own.”

“So,” Sam said, voice softening around the words, “what happened?” He sat next to Colby. He laid the bag on the coffee table and reached for Colby’s hand. 

“Well I wasn’t, like, tortured or anything,” Colby answered with a lazy grin. “If that’s what you guys were thinking.”

“Good to know,” Reggie muttered. He moved closer to Corey when Jake sat next to him.

Colby intertwined his fingers with Sam’s. He chewed on his lip, considering his next words carefully. He wondered how they’d take this. Would they believe it? Would they be angry? Would they brush it off, ignore it completely because it came from Marcus Pierce? He wondered because he went through each of those questions himself on his way home, though not in that order. 

In the end, as he began retelling the story to his friends, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it. They listened carefully, asking less questions than he had, surprisingly. Colby hoped going through it again would shed some light on things, maybe clear something up or expose a lie he didn’t catch the first time. He hoped it would make no sense in a good way this time—like it’s so utterly impossible for Hailey to have such a blotchy background that there was _no chance_ it was believable—not in a bad way that had him questioning everything.

When he finished, nobody spoke for a few minutes. He gave them their peace; they’d speak when they wanted to. He looked at Sam, who’d moved to the edge of his seat during the story. Colby couldn’t see his face, but he knew it was twisted in deep thought. His shoulders were tense. Colby leaned forward, looping his arm around Sam’s and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“What do we do now?” Jake asked in a voice so soft, it’s breathless. 

“No idea,” Colby answered.

“We need to confront her,” Sam said. 

“With the truth?” Reggie offered.

Sam shook his head. “No.” He kept shaking his head. “No, she needs to be the one to say it.”

“What if she _doesn’t?”_ Colby said. “What if she can say Clara’s name, and she doesn’t tell us the whole truth?”

“She _will,”_ Sam insisted. He leaned away from Colby, so their eyes could meet. “Maybe she just didn’t tell us at first because she didn’t trust us, but she does now, doesn’t she?”

He sounded _so_ confident, but Colby knew that was an actual question. She _did_ trust them, right? _Right?_ He wanted to say yes. He really, _really_ wanted to say yes. He wanted to reassure Sam, and his friends, and _himself_ that Hailey was their friend, that she trusted them, and that she would _surely_ tell them the truth when they asked.  
But he… he didn’t know anymore.

“Even if she does tell the truth,” Jake argued, “are we just going to accept it? I mean, a little girl _died!_ And she’s supposed to be involved in that? I can at least understand Casey, but an innocent kid? I can’t… Guys…”

“One thing at a time,” Sam said. “First, we need to figure out if any of this is even true. We can bring it up tomorrow.”

Corey sighed. “Sam….”

Sam didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ll just ask her about Clara. I’ve seen her twice now, she was there tonight, so it won’t be unexpected.”

“Yeah she was there tonight,” Corey agreed, “but do you remember how Hailey acted when you asked about her? She looked scared, dude. There might actually be some truth to this.”

Sam shook his head. “There was a lot going on tonight.”

“Clara didn’t trust Hailey.”

Colby’s eyes darted to Corey. Beside him, Sam stood from the couch.

“How do you know?” Reggie asked.

“I heard her in my head. It wasn’t her voice, it was mine, but the thoughts didn’t belong to me. She told me she didn’t like Rodrick or Hailey.”

“Sam, can’t you see how someone dies?” Jake said. “If she was murdered I mean, wouldn’t you be able to tell?”  
When Colby turned to Sam, he realized immediately that yeah, Sam knew how Clara died. He could tell in the way his eyes squeezed shut, like he was just realizing it too. Now that Colby thought about it, Sam had known for a while, hadn’t he? Ever since Colby tried that Sight spell, the first time Sam set foot in Ruth’s study.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I always meant to ask. I did. It just slipped my mind—”

“It’s okay,” Colby said. He reached a hand out, coaxing Sam back to the couch. When Sam was close enough, he grabbed his arm and pulled him close. “We aren’t mad, just tell us what you saw.”

“Her throat was cut.” He lifted his finger to his own neck, dragging it from one side to the other for demonstration.

“Do you think an animal did it?”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “No way.” He looked at Colby. “Too clean of a line. And there was only one wound that I could see. Claws would leave marks, wouldn’t they?”

“So, the werewolf thing is complete bullshit no matter what,” Corey said.

“What do you guys think actually happened?” Reggie asked.

“Marcus mentioned veil hopping. Maybe…?” Colby suggested, though he really hoped that wasn’t the case. Dragging a kid into the veil? He didn’t know a lot about the Other Side or what going into it actually meant, but nothing about a child as a partner sounded right.

Sam yawned. “No way. I don’t think he’d do something like that.” He slumped against Colby, head falling on his shoulder.

“You’re defending him?” Jake said.

“No.” Sam yawned again. “I’m just not quick to think someone’s a murderer.”

“So, we’re not going to mention what probably happened to that Taylor guy?”

Reggie, Colby, and Corey glared at him. Sam either didn’t hear him, or he just didn’t want to respond.

Colby looked down at Sam. He’d been wondering when the power toll would finally set in. Sam used magic for the first time tonight, but not just any magic. Sam used _black_ magic, which was known for zapping energies faster than white magic. He remembered Ruth telling him about it. Black magic demanded more, so it took more. He couldn’t imagine Sam staying awake much longer.

“I think we should finish this in the morning,” Corey suggested. He must’ve noticed Sam faltering as well. “It’s been a long night.”

Colby nodded. “Yeah, and I think tomorrow will be an even longer day.”  
On their way out, Colby heard Jake offer Corey a place to stay for the night. It made Colby wonder about Corey’s situation at home. They needed to deal with the Shadowman issue. How long had Corey been staying with his friends? Too long, he suspected. One thing at a time, though.

Sam’s movements were sluggish when he entered the bedroom fifteen minutes later. Colby was sure he’d pass out as soon as he laid down. While he pulled his shirt off and tossed it into his laundry basket at the end of the bed, he asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Sam mumbled.

Colby smiled. “Just tired?”

Sam paused next to the bed, frowning. He pulled back the covers and crawled underneath. _“Really_ tired,” he corrected. “Why?”

“Just checking. You used magic for the first time.”

“Yeah. I think I prefer guys murdered by food poisoning over demon summoning, though.”

Colby laughed. “Good! Glad to hear it.” He climbed into bed next to him and turned the bedside lamp off as he went. 

the bedside lamp off as he went.

Sam waited until they’d both settled in bed to ask, “What do you think actually happened to Taylor?”

Colby didn’t answer at first. He stared at the ceiling, going over everything he knew about Taylor’s case. There had been no word in a week. Nobody from work had spoken to him, and he’d met with Marcus on a few occasions before his disappearance. There wasn’t anything good about his situation. So, what did he think?

“I think he’s dead. I think Marcus had something to do with it.”

Sam spoke before Colby had the chance. He’d only voiced what Colby had already concluded, but hearing it out loud made his skin crawl. That made it real.

“If he did, I don’t get it,” Colby admitted. “Marcus is a seer too. Why would he kill his own kind?”

“Maybe there’s something else we haven’t seen.” Sam rolled over, curling into Colby’s side and resting his head on his chest. “Or,” he whispered, yawning, “maybe he’s just more deranged than we originally thought.”

Colby hummed in response. He combed his fingers through Sam’s hair absently, mind cloudy with thoughts and ideas. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Jake was on the drug when we found out who Marcus was, right?”

It took Sam a few moments to answer. “Mmhm.”

“I wonder what he saw. Like, his eyes. Were they red like yours? Or yellow like mine?”

“Probably both,” Sam replied. His words were slurring; Colby knew he was fighting to stay awake. “Maybe that’s why he has two different colored eyes.”

Doubtful, though that’s an interesting idea. He laughed under his breath.

“Goodnight,” Sam said.

Colby snickered. He knew that was Sam’s polite, tired way of saying _‘Stop talking, let me sleep’._ “Fine. Goodnight, love.”

••••••••••

_June 29th_

Staring at the calendar won't make the date change, she knew, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. Four years had passed since the death of her daughter Clara. Usually, she spent the day at home with her husband. Not in the same room anymore, though. Over the years, they’ve kept to themselves on the 29th, preoccupied with their own activities. At first, Ruth hated the change. Now, nearly half a decade later, she welcomed the silence.

This was the first year she chose to spend the anniversary at the church. Really, she should’ve been doing it all along. She had friends there who actually wanted to spend the day with her. She had books—her favorites, not the ones her husband had in their study that never held her interest long enough. She had, well… She had Clara, even if she couldn’t actually see her. Knowing she was there, though, close enough to brush a piece of paper off her desk or rock her chair back and forth was enough to swell Ruth’s heart with both joy and sadness that oftentimes, she found herself weeping near the window where Clara’s energy felt the strongest.

That’s where she was when her study door opened that afternoon, sitting against the wall with her feet on her chair. She wouldn’t have even noticed someone had entered if she hadn’t heard their voice.

“Ruth?”

Of all people she would have expected that day, it wasn’t Colby Brock, standing in the center of the room with eyebrows pressed together and his eyes wide.

“Ruth, are you okay?” he asked softly, rocking on his feet like he argued with himself over stepping closer. He was a kind soul; not at all what she’d been expecting when Marcus first requested she teach him months ago.

Ruth climbed to her feet. She grabbed the arm of her chair for support until she was sure her tears had subsided. “Yes,” she answered carefully, testing the strength of her voice. It wavered ever so slightly; she wondered if he noticed. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

He shifted his weight, hands in his pockets now and his lower lip between his teeth. “I, um…” He looked around. “I just needed some help with something, but I can come back—”

“No,” she argued quickly. She shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay. I could use the distraction.”

“Did… something happen?”

She inhaled deeply. “It’s the 29th of June,” she explained, slowly because she could feel her strength faltering. “It’s the anniversary of my daughter’s death.”

His mouth parted in shock. “Oh shit—shoot—Ruth, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She waved him off. “It’s been a few years now.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“Werewolves.” She had to refrain from spitting out the world; just thinking about their kind made her stomach turn. She hoped, for their sake, that she never came across one on her own. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to contain herself.

Colby made a noise, like a scoff and a closed mouth laugh. “Assholes, right?”

She blinked. “You know?”

“I’ve met one before… kind of.”

“You have? When?”

He shifted his weight. “Last month. We went camping in the mountains for a video.” She must’ve looked concerned, because he added quickly, “I’m fine though, really. Just some bruises.”

“That’s good to hear.” She forced a smile, even as red hot anger boiled beneath her skin. Another person targeted by those beasts? What was the deal with werewolves, really? Why did they seem to attack _everyone_ Ruth cared about?

“Well,” she said quietly, swallowing her emotions for the time being, “what was it you needed help with?” 

••••••••••

Per Hailey’s request, the Occult group met at Sam and Colby’s apartment later that day. She texted in the group chat, wanting to go over what happened last night. Corey arrived first with Jake and Reggie just behind. Colby was on his way from the church; Sam expected him and Hailey to arrive around the same time. That didn’t leave any room to try strategizing with Colby. 

Hailey arrived first. She smiled at Sam and the others. “Hey guys.”

Sam mirrored the grin, though it felt weird. He wondered if it looked as fake as it felt. “Hey.”

When Colby arrived five minutes later, he didn’t join them in the living room. Instead, he headed straight for the kitchen. That wouldn’t have been a problem if Sam and the others weren’t already _so_ nervous they could hardly keep a conversation going. Sam fought to keep his hands away from his sleeves; he suspected that was a habit Hailey had picked up on already. She needed to think that everything was okay.

Sam looked over the back of the couch. “Colby?” he called. “Are you gonna join us?”

“Yeah,” Colby replied. “In a second.”

“What’re you doing?”

Colby paused a moment before: “Just getting a drink. Start without me.”

What Sam heard was: _Stop asking questions._ Whatever he was doing was important, apparently. “Okay,” Sam answered slowly. Corey, Jake, and Reggie stared at him when he settled against the couch again. Sam didn’t respond, but he hoped the furrow in his eyebrows was enough to tell them that he didn’t know what was going on either.

“So,” Hailey began, crossing her legs under her, “the council is taking care of Rodrick. Val and I had to give a report last night after you guys left, but don’t worry.” She smiled at Sam, then Corey. “We both agreed to leave your names out of it. As far as the council knows, we were the only ones at the church.”

Sam’s phone buzzed against his thigh. He ignored it. “Why’d you cover for us?” he asked.

Behind Hailey, the others checked their phones. Corey and Jake frowned. Reggie looked toward the kitchen.

“Because you’re my friends,” Hailey explained as if it was obvious. “And I know you were just worried about the others, so I can’t really blame you for what happened.”

“Hey, do you guys want any water?” Colby called.

“No thank you,” Hailey replied. But Corey, Jake, and Reggie agreed.

Sam didn’t respond. Instead, with his mind cloudy after hearing about what Hailey did _again,_ he answered, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

She grinned. “What’re friends for?”

God, she wasn’t making this easy.

Colby rounded the couch with water bottles in his arms. He handed them to the guys before sitting between Sam and Hailey. He smiled innocently at her, almost as if he just wanted to sit there. Maybe he did, but it felt too familiar for Sam to completely ignore. Oh, how long ago that was.

“So, what was it Rodrick did again?” Colby asked as he offered Sam a bottle.

“No thanks,” Sam refused quietly.

While Hailey launched into the retelling of Rodrick’s shocking betrayals, Colby turned to Sam. He forced the bottle into his hand, giving him a knowing look. Sam frowned. Why Colby was suddenly so concerned about Sam being dehydrated was beyond him—until he caught his friends giving him a similar look from the other couch: wide eyes, raised eyebrows, less serious and more frantic than Colby, but Sam knew the message was clear.

So, he nodded at Colby and took the water. Colby offered a small smile, as if he knew how weird he was being. That didn’t answer _any_ of his questions, but okay. Fine. Sam opened the bottle. As Colby began talking about something that happened at the church today—it involved werewolves and almost had Ruth in tears—Sam choked on his drink. He leaned forward, slapping a hand over his mouth and forcing himself to swallow before he could spit it out. He turned his head to cough into his arm and hide his face twisting in disgust. Whatever he just drank tasted sour and so indescribably opposite of water. What the fuck?

“Are you okay?” Hailey asked.

Sam coughed into his arm again before sitting against the couch. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. “Yeah, I’m good. Drank too fast.” He glared at Colby, who looked to be fighting back a grin.

“Anyways…” Jake said, drawing the attention to him, “what were you saying about Ruth?”

Hailey straightened her shoulders. “Right, that. Today’s a death anniversary for her; her nine year old adopted daughter was killed four years ago today.”

“What happened?” Reggie asked.

“Was that,” Sam began, feigning surprise, “her daughter I saw?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry for lying. Last night was just so stressful for more reasons than one; having Rodrick breathing down your neck the whole night isn’t exactly _easy.”_

“Well, you can make it up to us by telling the truth now,” Corey said with a grin.

She laughed, slumping against the couch. She looked so comfortable and relaxed, things Sam hoped she’d feel one day amongst them, but what horrible timing this was.

 _Please be on our side,_ he found himself begging inside his head. _Please be the person you’ve been telling us you are this whole time._

"She was involved in a coven ritual one night,” Hailey began. This was it; she’d already started, and there was no going back now. “It was supposed to be easy and harmless; a way to bring prosperity and growth to our coven at the turn of the season. We do it four times a year, in the forest behind the church."

_In the forest, under the full moon, at midnight. There would be others, he claimed. Others from the coven, from surrounding covens, would be there to participate in the ritual. Ruth agreed hesitantly when he pitched the idea over tea, only because she liked him so much—he was sure of that. She'd never liked the idea of Hailey, an outsider who stumbled into their world. But Marcus… He came from magic, born right in the heart of a hybrid city divided between witchcraft and voodoo. He and Hailey never discussed it, but he always felt his connection with their teacher was better than her's._

_Instead, they went to the basement of the church. Far below the dungeon where they kept suspected traitors and supposed possessed persons—Marcus never had any interest in the dungeons. He would've, maybe, if they were ever in use. He wasn't sure if he'd known if they were, though. The High Priest was a secretive man, keeping everyone on a Need To Know. Unfortunately, annoyingly, Marcus never needed to know._

_A long, dark tunnel lay beneath the dungeons. It was so rarely used, Marcus realized, that there weren't even lanterns to light on the walls. He'd discovered this place one exploration day. The door leading inside was locked; he hardly ever paid attention to locks. The darkness wasn't a problem, either. He actually enjoyed the darkness. He thrived in it._

_Clara didn't like the dark. At all._

_He couldn't understand._

"They brought a kid to that?" Corey asked.

"Children are more susceptible to magic," Hailey explained. "It was common to bring the children of covens to such a ritual to enhance the spell. They were perfectly safe, I promise."

"Clearly not," Sam muttered.

"If it had gone according to plan, they would've been." Hailey's gaze dropped to her hands. "Something went wrong."

_Once they passed the threshold of the secret chamber at the end of the hall, they stepped into a room with two grand, full-length mirrors facing each other. Casey and Hailey stood on either side of them, Marcus' best friends. Casey had helped Marcus set this up; they managed to carry two of the oldest mirrors they could find in the church downstairs without being caught, thanks to Hailey on lookout._

_The part that would’ve frightened Clara the most would be when Casey cast his spell and stopped their hearts (for five minutes, only five minutes. They were the most careful about that section). So, Marcus didn’t warn her. He reassured that she’d be home soon. Her mother would be waiting on the front lawn, probably with an ice cream from McDonald’s—she loved the M &M McFlurries. Mention of a treat when everything was said and done kick-started Clara’s excitement all over again. She didn’t even flinch when Casey cast over her. _

_Before Marcus closed his eyes, Hailey offered him a gift: a small crystal with power in its name. He couldn’t recall exactly what it did, but she claimed with the power already stored in it that it could be an anchor for their return. She sounded so sure of herself, and when she spoke, it was with a small smile, like she was positive Marcus could do this and make it back in one piece. He mirrored her grin._

_The veil glimmered like fresh snow on a cold winter day. It was so_ bright _inside; it blinded them at first. There were thousands of doorways floating around them, all of different shapes and sizes. Extraordinary, really. He wished he could stay, have a look around._

_She started to ask questions, but Marcus took her hand, silencing her; they didn’t have time for questions._

_Traveling through the veil as a still-living soul was like trying to swim against the current. Something in it, or maybe the whole world itself, knew they didn’t belong. It fought, drilling into their spiritual bodies, shoving them back where they came from._

_And your spiritual body is different, you see. It’s not solid; it’s not grounding. Traveling with only your soul and a faint glow of who you used to be in the living world makes things difficult to hold onto. Somewhere in the mess of the dead trying to force them back and his mind running rampant with strategies to bypass them and figure out where he really needed to go, the grip on his hand slipped away._

_He didn’t notice until he was back at the portal he entered through._

_He didn’t notice until he looked back, and she was gone._

“Halfway through the ritual, a pack of werewolves discovered them in the forest. The witches held them back as well as they could, but unfortunately, one broke through the barricade. Ruth’s daughter was killed on sight.”

_Only Casey remained in the chamber. Hailey was gone—later, Casey would tell him she melted under the stress and fled before she could be a witness to anything—and so was the crystal she’d given him. Clara was still in there—but finding her wouldn’t be easy. He stood at the edge of the vortex, toes dipping just inside of the rippling mirror. He had to go back in. He had to save her._

_Without that power crystal to tether him, he tried casting an astral spell on Casey. If he could create a connection with his living friend, he could dive back in and search for her._

_He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t summon enough of his strength, even grabbing hold of his own body and attempting to channel straight from the source. Why wasn’t it working? He should’ve been strong enough. He was_ supposed _to be strong enough._

_Clara didn’t come back through the veil._

_He waited as long as he could, until Casey began casting the revival spell, and his soul lurched toward his body. It drug him across the room like a Saint Bernard being walked by a child; he didn’t have enough energy to try fighting it._

_When he fell back into his body, he opened his eyes again in the world of Casey looming over him, face twisted in worry and eyes fading from yellow into their natural colors. Marcus’ breaths were ragged and shallow. He didn’t move for a long time, long enough for Casey to circle back and demand Clara’s whereabouts._

_He didn’t know. Neither did Casey; this was the first attempt, their first try at anything like this._

_She never came back through the veil._

_He would swear until he took his final breath that he was rushed here, stressing out and still recovering from a strange zap in his energy that he couldn’t find an explanation to on the spot. That’s why in a haste, in a bubble of fear that took his breath away, in a daze that tipped his world upside down as he rushed to her side…_

_In a blur of black that spotted his vision out of nowhere—really, nowhere; he would never be able to explain it to anyone—he grabbed a knife Casey brought for the revival spell, and he lunged for the little girl._

“What was her name?” Reggie asked.

Sam held his breath.

“Clara,” Hailey answered. She inhaled deeply and picked at her nail polish, eyes distant as she stared at the coffee table. “Her name was Clara.”

They let her name hang in silence for a few moments. Sam had an iron grip on Colby's hand, or maybe that was Colby holding him so tightly. He really couldn't tell.

“You know,” Colby began, shockingly quick because Sam, for once, had no idea where to go from there, “I think Marcus mentioned Clara last night.”

Hailey hummed. “Did he?”

“Yeah. He didn’t say her name, of course, because he took this potion that prevents him from doing that. He said you and Casey drank the potion too, but you must’ve skipped out because you said it just fine.”

She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What're you saying, Colby?”

“I don't know, but he said the only reason last night happened was so he could tell me all about everything you’ve done since you’ve joined the coven. Why would he go through all that trouble for a lie?”

Hailey scoffed. She jumped to her feet and stormed around the coffee table. “To pit us against each other, maybe? You all think I’m lying, don’t you?” She glared at each man. “I thought we were friends.”

“So, when you first joined,” Sam added, “your High Priest _didn’t_ tell you to get close to Marcus and drain his magic?”

“I—”

“Did Marcus actually summon that demon to make Casey fall in love with you?” Jake asked.

“Of course he—”

Colby stood. He stepped around the table and met her in the middle of the room. Quietly, carefully, he demanded, “Are you really the reason that he couldn’t save her from the veil?”

Another thick silence fell over the group.

Then, Colby crumbled.

Sam lurched forward, catching him in his arms and falling to the ground with him. His back hit the corner of the couch. He barely winced, too caught up in his boyfriend: unresponsive. “Colby?” he breathed. He cupped Colby’s cheeks, shoved his shoulder, brushed his hair to the side. “Colby! Baby, wake up. What—” Sam looked up at Hailey. “What did you do?” His jaw clenched. “What’d you do to him, Hailey?!”

“He’s fine!” she cried. “He’ll wake up in a few hours, I just—” She pulled at her hair. “I can explain everything, I promise, but not now! Not—It’s not what you think! He twisted it!”

“You wouldn’t be freaking out like this if it wasn’t true!” Corey argued.

“Oh my god,” Jake said. “Did _you_ kill that girl?”

Hailey shook her head. “No!” She rubbed her temples. “You guys need to calm down. I’ll explain, okay? Later, I’ll explain later.”

Sam’s mouth dried with a devastating thought. “Did you…?” He hugged Colby tight against him. “Hailey. Don’t tell me you mind wiped him.”

She sighed heavily. “Don’t say it like that, Sam. It will just be easier to start from the beginning—”

“From your beginning?” Reggie spat.

Her eyes fell shut. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry you guys. I’m so, so sorry.” 

When she opened her eyes, they were yellow.

Sam’s gasp was cut short.

Because in an instant, his world turned black.

••••••••••

Marcus wasn’t surprised to meet Ruth that evening. Ever since the death of her daughter, he’d wondered how long it would take for her to snap in half completely. Actually, he wondered more what it would _take;_ what could cause sweet, caring Ruth to finally crumble and want revenge?

She didn’t care to tell him about it. Maybe some other day.

“This works?” she asked carefully as she looked at the pill in her hand.

He grinned. “It wouldn’t be completely sold out if it didn’t.”

It also wouldn’t be completely sold out if some idiot vampires hadn’t locked up their hostages in the same room as their products. He wasn’t happy to find out what happened. He’s even less happy to hand over the last of their current batch to an unpaying customer, but for Ruth, it’s worth it. In the long run.

“I have something else for you,” he said, unlocking his trunk. “You can’t go unarmed, after all.”

“I have magic.”

“Trust me,” he argued, “this will make all the difference.”

There were tears in her eyes when he handed over the item. She swallowed thickly. “Thank you,” she said.

He chuckled. “Don’t mention it; happy to help.” He smirked. “Now, go get your well deserved justice.”

••••••••••

_June 29th_

Four years since the death of her daughter Clara.

Ruth parked at the edge of the forest. She grabbed the weapon Marcus had loaned her; it’d been laying on the floor of her passenger seat the whole ride, hidden, so she couldn’t think too hard on what she was planning to do. So she couldn’t talk herself out of it.

There wasn’t going to be a full moon tonight, but thanks to Marcus, that didn’t matter.

She locked the car behind her, stuffed her keys in her pocket, and ventured into the trees.

In her hand: a gun.

Loaded with silver bullets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so at the end of the second book, some of you may remember Marcus mentioning Clara's name to Ruth, and I just want to let you know that no, you actually don't :))
> 
> (as much as I wish I could say I've had this particular plot planned from the second book, I haven't, so I had to go change their conversation at the end. sorry lol)
> 
> anyways, I'm curious, what are our opinions on Hailey now? and Ruth too, dang....


	22. hailey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hailey admits to her mistakes; Sam and Colby prepare for a haunted TFIL trip

Val and Jo stayed the night with Hailey after their sting operation ended so late. Exhausted, they spent no time relaxing and getting to know each other when they reached the apartment. In the morning, Val’s internal alarm clock had her up at six AM. She longed for coffee, even though it was a weekend and there really was no need. Still, per routine, she tried sneaking around her friends to leave without waking anyone.

It didn’t work; Hailey woke to the sound of Val’s keys accidentally bouncing against the door. Val ended up driving the three of them to Starbucks around 6:30. She’d never driven in LA in the early mornings; at this hour, only a handful of cars were on the road. While they were out, they stopped for breakfast at a local diner. After they returned from their outing, they lounged by the pool, chatting about nothing and enjoying the crisp morning air.

They didn’t talk about what happened the night before; Val didn’t want the day to be spoiled. And it wasn’t, really. They lounged around until shopping centers opened, then they spent their day out and about. Hailey showed them her favorite spots in the city. They had lunch at IHOP—Hailey’s favorite pancakes are the ones with chocolate chips; noted.

Around two, Hailey left to meet with Sam, Colby, and the others about the night before. In her absence, Val filled Jo in on the formalities: discovering Rodrick’s alliance with Marcus, reporting him to the Council, filling out paperwork, etc. 

And the informalities? Well…

Jo grinned. She nudged Val with her foot. “How was your little date with Hailey?”

Val chuckled. “It was _not_ a date. The Grand Priest was there!”

“Yeah, but Hailey was there too! I’m sure you didn’t spend your time talking to Rodrick.”

“Actually,” Val admitted with a sigh, “there wasn’t a lot of talking. It was awkward, you know? Being in the same room as the Grand Priest… it’s not exactly _pleasant.”_

Jo hummed. “Then how about today? We did a lot; it was fun.”

“Yes, but still not a date because you were there.”

“Really? I felt more like a third wheel than anything.”

They shared a laugh.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Jo asked.

Val scoffed. “No way. First, I doubt she likes girls. Second, she’s probably still in mourning about her husband—it’s only been a month—and third…” She shrugged. “This isn’t a serious crush. It’s just a, you know. A girl crush.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The door opened then, and Hailey rushed inside. She was pale and frantic, tears in her eyes, wiping her hands on her pants. Val stood in seconds. She met Hailey by the door and grabbed her shoulders.

“Hailey?” she said. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine,” she answered slowly. “Fine.”

Val frowned. “You don’t _look_ fine. Did something happen with Sam and Colby?”

Hailey shook her head. “No.” She inhaled deeply, wiped her eyes, and shook her head again. "No, it's all fine. I'm handling it." Finally, she looked up at Val. "I think it's time for you to go."

"What?" Jo said.

"Wait. Let us help," Val tried. "We can help. Right?" She looked back at Jo, even though she didn't need a confirmation. She was the High Priestess there, after all.

Still, Jo nodded, although less certain than Val. “Yeah. “ She crossed her arms and darted her eyes between them. “Sure.”

“Just tell us what happened,” Val said, pulling Hailey to the couch by her hands.

Hailey sat between them. She pulled at her sleeves and stared at the coffee table for a few moments. She took a breath. “I made a lot of mistakes in the beginning,” she admitted slowly. “I didn’t know any better. I’d just moved into an apartment in LA at only nineteen—”

“You could afford to live on your own at nineteen?” Jo interrupted. She caught Val’s stern gaze over Hailey. “Sorry. That’s just…”

“It was a struggle at first, but then I…” Hailey picked at her nails. “I learned magic to make it easier.”

Val nodded in understanding; she’d be lying if she said she’d never used magic to help out in daily life.

“I was new, to the city and to magic. I was enchanted so easily by what witches— _actual witche_ s—could do. They were all so talented. I just… trusted whatever they told me. I thought, ‘Why would they lie? To an insignificant girl?’

“Marcus joined a few weeks after I did. By then, I knew basic spells. I’d made it a point to learn people’s names on my end of the church. A lot of witches knew me. Plus, my office job was going well. Everything was great until he showed up.” She sighed. “The High Priest called me into his office. He wanted me, the latest new member, to show Marcus around and make him feel welcome. I thought this was odd since no one did that for me, but I knew better than to question him. He also told me to report back with what I learn. I, stupidly, didn’t think anything of it.”

“You didn’t know what he was talking about,” Val reasoned.

“Still. I should’ve asked questions.”

“Everyone knows you don’t question the leader of the church,” Jo said.

Val frowned. “That’s not a rule.”

“It’s unspoken.”

Val’s eyebrows scrunched together. Jo shrugged in response. Hailey didn’t notice. “Marcus had already befriended Casey, so I befriended them,” she continued. “I’d met Casey before—he was nice, but I wasn’t interested in him like he was in me. We became known around the coven, the three of us; expected to always be together.

“One day, Casey invited me to their house. They were rooming with another guy in a mansion on Woodley Avenue. Casey wanted to practice magic.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what happened,” Jo mumbled.

Hailey shifted. “Not exactly. Marcus disappeared for most of the night. Nathan, Casey, and I watched movies. At some point, Casey brought us drinks. Bottles of water—I didn’t think anything of it. The next day, there was an attraction for Casey that I _know_ didn’t exist before. But I couldn’t fight it.”

“What was Marcus doing?” Val asked.

“I still don’t know exactly. Nathan came out with a claim that Marcus was summoning a demon in the garage. He told us first, but he didn’t tell the Council until later. That convinced me that spying on Marcus wasn’t as bad of an idea as I originally thought.

I began looking into what I could use to better control him, and the High Priest suggested the power crystal to… drain his magic.”

“You  _ drained his magic _ —?!” Jo began.

“He was too powerful for the coven!” Hailey defended. “Besides, the High Priest told me too! I couldn’t just—”

“What happened when you drained his magic?” Jo interrupted again. She received looks from both Hailey and Val, but her hard stare didn’t change.

“Marcus wanted to try something called veil hopping. He seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing; he knew where to do it, what to bring, who he needed… I didn’t understand what exactly they were doing or how dangerous it was in the moment. When Marcus and his partner Clara, the young daughter of our magic teacher, finally went under, I put the crystal in Marcus’ hand. I figured that was the only way I’d get close enough with it.

“But then… something went wrong. The timer Casey had had gone off, but neither were waking up. Casey started to panic. I grabbed the crystal before he could see, and then I…” Hailey took a deep breath. “I left.”

“You  _ left?” _ Jo repeated.

“I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know how to help—”

“That doesn’t mean you leave! After having just drained Marcus’ magic, too…” Jo huffed.

Hailey stood abruptly from the couch. “You two need to leave,” she said over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen.

“No,” Val argued. “Not until we hear the end of this.”

Hailey eyed her, then sighed. “Casey and Marcus told me what happened the next day,” she said. “Marcus said he didn’t have enough power to bring Clara back, so he killed her physical body. He slit her throat without so much as a flinch!”

“Because he didn’t have enough power to bring her back!” Jo argued. “Because  _ you _ drained his magic!”

“Hailey,” Val said quietly as an idea struck her, “how did you all manage to stay in your coven after being involved in something like that?”

Hailey paused. “We didn’t…” She stared at her hands. “We never told anyone what happened.”

“What—” Jo began.

“Marcus created this potion that prevented us from even saying her name, let alone talk about it.”

“But you said it,” Val recalled quickly. “Clara. You said her name.”

“… I didn’t take it. I should’ve, looking back—”

“But Clara’s family knows, right?” Jo interrupted. “You at least told  _ them _ what happened, right?”

Val watched Hailey shift her weight. She pulled at the ends of her hair, wiped her hands on her pants, and did everything in her power to avoid looking at either of them.

“Right?” Jo pressed. “Please tell me you didn’t just… just brush it all under the rug.” She rose to her feet slowly. 

“You have to understand,” Hailey said quickly, “I was only nineteen—”

“You were the  _ only person  _ who was able to tell Clara’s family what happened, and you didn’t!” Jo cried.

“I was scared!” Hailey yelled.

“Tough!” Jo yelled. “Imagine how scared Clara was! Or her parents, when you told them some bullshit story about what happened to their daughter! It’s been years, and they still don’t know the truth!”

“What did you tell her parents?” Val asked hesitantly.

“That Marcus was doing a moon ritual in the forest, and a pack of werewolves attacked.”

“So now that you’re older, why haven’t you told anyone what actually happened?”

“Because she’s in a position of power,” Jo spat. “She's a High Priestess. Exposing something like this would destroy her reputation.”

“The coven already blames Marcus for Clara’s death,” Hailey explained. 

“So, you’re just hiding behind him? Letting him become the Coven Enemy as long as your victim act still holds up?”

“I am  _ not _ playing victim—” Hailey argued vehemently. 

“Then what was the whole  _ ‘I was only nineteen’ _ act?” Jo stomped over to her. “You know damn well you were old enough to know that what you did was  _ fucked up,” _ she hissed.

Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “Funny you judge me for hiding behind someone when you’ve been doing the same.”

“What does  _ that _ mean?”

“You’re a hunter hiding behind the illusion of a witch!”

"What?" Val said.

Jo didn't respond. She and Hailey stared at each other, wide eyed, shocked, like neither could believe what was just exposed. Val stepped in front of Jo, pointedly destroying the tension between her friends. "What is she talking about?" she demanded. A hunter? Pretending to be a witch? She didn't know who she wanted to be right. If Hailey was telling the truth, that meant her best friend had been lying to her this whole time. But if Hailey was lying, that meant she was willing to do anything to get the blame off of herself. "Jo," Val pleaded.

"I…" Jo's eyes suddenly flooded with tears. "Val, my family… I told you my family has some traditional views—"

"You never said they were _hunters!"_

Jo opened and closed her mouth, staring helplessly at Val. Dull silence fell over them; she suddenly couldn't breath. Her best friend? A hunter? Val staggered back. Jo followed until Val stopped her with a hand.

"Don't," she said, shaking her head.

She headed for the door.

“Val—!” Jo called.

“I need to think,” Val answered roughly over her shoulder.

When the door shut, Hailey rushed past Jo to the bookshelves. She grabbed a particularly thick book with a weathered spine and began flipping through the pages.

“Now what are you doing?” Jo demanded.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago,” Hailey muttered. She stopped on a page, pressing her finger to the text. “If I could just forget all of this ever happened, I could start over. Or, maybe I could make everyone  _ else _ forget.” She hummed thoughtfully.

“What?!” Jo rushed forward. She snatched the book from her hands and tossed it on the couch. “No! No, you don’t get to just do that!”

“Do what?” Hailey growled.

“Ruin people’s lives and then take away the pain you caused because it’s convenient for  _ you!  _ You have to deal with this, just like everyone else in the world! You’re a fucking High Priestess. You’re supposed to be a leader.”

“Sam and Colby will probably never talk to me again!” Hailey cried. “My husband is  _ dead. _ Val didn’t even look at me. You probably hate me. What else do I  _ have?  _ What’s the point anymore?”

“Dignity?” Jo offered. “Morals? A coven that you’re still in charge of, whether you like it or not? Oh, how about trying to fix everything? You can’t just roll over and let this happen! If you want people to trust you, you have to earn it back! On your own! That’s what life is!”

Jo scoffed. She grabbed her bag and Val’s from the back of the couch, and she stormed toward the door. She hoped Val didn’t leave her behind; just because she could magic someone to give her a lift back to San Diego for free doesn’t mean she wants to.

“You left the book,” Hailey said.

Jo stopped by the door. She sighed deeply then turned back to her. “Yeah,” she said, grabbing the door handle, “I’m not into stealing. I’m actually a  _ good person, _ you know? Besides, taking it would be too easy, and I think you’ve had  _ enough _ of  _ that _ in your life.”

Hailey didn’t respond. Even if she had, Jo wouldn’t have noticed. She’d slipped into the hallway in seconds. 

The door slammed shut behind her, echoing across the otherwise silent building.

  
  
•••••••••

Bruises spotted Sam’s spine. Colby grimaced when he first saw it that morning. Sam stood at the closet, wearing a light pair of jeans and looking for a top to finish the look. He tore a button up from a hanger and turned to slip it on. Colby didn’t miss the wince when Sam moved. He didn’t miss the lip bite to try containing the pain before Colby could comment. His stomach turned at the memories.

Colby met him at the dresser. His hand slipped beneath Sam’s shirt, fingers gently touching the spots he knew hurt the worst. He watched Sam’s face for the pain, the sign to stop. When Sam seemed to swallow it back, Colby asked, “How bad does it hurt?”

Sam shook his head. “Just sore. How bad does it _look?”_

Colby moved behind him. One hand pinned Sam’s shirt up while the other traced the bruises. They almost looked like individual attacks, but then they scrambled at the base of his spine into an ugly mess of blue and purple. He left feathered touches across his skin, as if lingering too long would make it worse.

“Pretty bad considering you only fell into a couch,” Colby joked. He hugged Sam from behind, tight enough for their warmth to bleed into each other, but loose enough for Sam to only melt into his hold, not flinch away. He dipped his head to pepper kisses along Sam’s jaw.

“So, um—” Sam turned in Colby’s arms. He stared at him with big, confused eyes. “What the hell happened with that? Why did I fall into a couch?”

Colby’s mouth dried. He reached a thumb to Sam’s cheek while his stomach turned with worry. “Tell me what you remember,” he said softly. He tried preparing for this the night before. He woke first with a start, all of his memories from the last two days still intact. Corey, Jake, and Reggie followed minutes after. They were confused as hell, but after a few questions, Colby realized with relief and a bit of pride that they were all on the same page.

When Sam was the last to come to, he began to worry whether the potion he slipped into their beverages actually took. He didn’t drink as much as the others. While waiting for Sam to finally wake, Colby considered the possibility of him not remembering. It wouldn’t be difficult to retell the story, of course, but retelling meant revealing Hailey’s attack. It meant exposing someone else messing with Sam’s head, and he hated when that happened.

Colby really fucking hated it too.

“I…” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. He leaned into Colby’s touch and squeezed his eyes shut. With a slow exhale, the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m kidding.” He looked at Colby with a grin. “I remember.”

Colby’s hand dropped to his side. “Not funny.” 

“A little funny?”

 _“No.”_ He wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him close. “You had me worried when you _ignored_ my text.”

Sam chuckled. “I’m _sorry._ I was too busy selling the lie.” His hands snaked around Colby’s neck. His fingers twisted in his hair. “I miss your curls.”

“My hair’s never been curly.”

“Ah, there are videos that say otherwise.”

“Damn, I knew I’d been exposed.” Colby huffed. “Every now and then, I get a few tweets about curling my hair again.” Behind him, his phone rang. He kissed Sam’s forehead before falling back onto the bed. He stretched an arm over his head and pulled his phone off its charger. “Hello?” he said.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Elton asked on the other end.

“Uncle Elton!” Colby grinned. “Hey, it’s been a while.”

Elton snickered. “Three months. How did that happen?”

“Damn, I don’t know. We’ve kinda been busy as hell.”

Sam crawled on the bed next to him. He fell onto his back with his phone above his face, scrolling through Twitter. 

Colby absently began running his fingers through Sam’s hair. With his other hand, he turned the call on speaker and laid the phone on his chest.

“So,” Elton began, “are you guys free tonight?”

“Tonight?” Colby echoed.

Sam hummed. “I don’t think we have another neighbor to confront tonight, so,” he mumbled.

“Maybe,” Colby answered. “What do you have in mind?”

“How about a revisit to the Suicide Bridge?”

Sam tipped his head back. He frowned at the phone. “Why there?”

“Because I captured the craziest shit on camera there, and the views don’t hurt. You guys in?”

“Maybe. Is Corey going?”

“I don’t know; he hasn’t been answering my texts. Must’ve been drinking last night or something.” Elton chuckled. “He doesn’t usually sleep this late.”

Colby checked the time on his phone. Almost one; well, that’s fair. Last night was stressful as fuck.

Sam rolled onto his stomach and gave Colby a Look. Colby couldn’t interpret the Look on his own. With a raised eyebrow at Sam, he told Elton, “I’ll get back to you, okay? I’ll let you know soon.”

“Okay, later.”

Colby tossed his phone to the side. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at Sam. “What’s up?”

“Just nervous about going down there again.”

“I thought ghosts don’t freak you out anymore?”

“They don't.” Sam picked at his cuticles. “They don’t, it’s just. It’s—” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m probably overthinking it.”

“You sure?” Colby rubbed circles in Sam’s arm with his thumb. “We don’t have to go.”

“No. Actually… I want to go.”

“Really? That was a quick change of heart.”

Sam’s eyes darted around the room. “Yeah, well I, I remembered something. Someone. I know someone there.”

Colby frowned. “You do?”

“Well, I don’t _know her,_ know her. I only spoke to her once.” Sam chewed on his lip. He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his legs tucked under him. “A few days into having the Sight, I took a walk. I guess I needed to clear my head. I met this homeless woman on a street corner. Actually, there were two.”

Colby’s heart skipped a beat. He sat up quickly; this sounded familiar.

“One was much thinner than the other. She had gashes across her arms that didn’t look like they were ever treated. I didn’t know for sure, but I guessed she was dead. God, she looked so real.” Sam shook his head. _“Alive,”_ he corrected quickly. “Besides her arms, she looked very much alive in every other sense.

“The other woman was breathing, for sure. I asked her—for some reason, I thought it was a good idea to interact with the homeless with a fragile mind—I asked if her friend was actually sitting there. Thankfully, she didn’t think I was crazy. Instead, she told me everything. She explained what the Sight was, how I probably got it, how it works— _everything.”_ Sam sat up straighter, and a small smile pulled at his lips. “I sat with her for an hour. God, it was like a breath of fresh air after walking on eggshells around everyone for almost a week. I told her all about the people I saw in downtown the first day I went out with the Sight, and she believed me!

“She told me about how she’d had the Sight for thirty years. She lost her job because of it. She…” Sam’s shoulders slumped. He went back to picking at his cuticles. Immediately, Colby missed the spark in his eyes. “She went kind of crazy with it. After she lost her job, she also lost her house, and then she’d been on the streets for fifteen years.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Colby watched, waiting.

“This sounds kind of dumb, but, um…” Sam huffed a laugh. “I kind of looked up to her? I just figured: here’s this woman who not only is living on the streets, but she also has the fucking demonic Sight, which, you know, was a huge fucking deal to me back when I didn’t think I’d actually get through it.”

“Get through what?” Colby asked.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought would happen if I couldn’t adjust to the Sight, but I remember freaking out at the airport. You told me that, whatever was going on, that I could get through it. And I remember, probably for the first time ever, not believing you.”

“Why did you freak out at the airport?”

“Because that day, she jumped off the Suicide Bridge.”

Colby inhaled sharply.

“And fuck, I was mad.” Sam laughed again, sarcastic and with an eye roll. “I was scared, too. Probably more afraid than angry. I don’t know. I was just—she _told_ me that I can’t let the Sight win. She asked how far I was willing to fight for my life, and at the time—because here was this homeless women who could see dead people with no place to hide when spirits showed up, no one to talk to, and nothing to call her own, and who kept going despite it all—I was all hyped up with encouragement to keep going too. I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen, but if she could do it, so could I. And then she just… gave up.”

“You don’t know the whole story though,” Colby reasoned gently. “Anything could’ve happened between you meeting her and her suicide.”

“I know, I know,” Sam said. “I think I was just afraid. I thought that, if _she_ couldn’t do it, what chance did I have? I don’t know; it was a lot to go through in the middle of an airport.”

Colby chuckled. He stroked his thumb across Sam’s cheekbone. “I’m glad you had someone to talk to, even if it was for just an hour.”

“Me too. I never would’ve come up with ‘demonic Sight’ on my own. I probably would’ve just called it Headaches and Hallucinations from Hell.” Sam snickered.

“Do you remember anything else about that story? Like, maybe when you were leaving that woman…?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Marcus told me he met you that day. Well, you didn’t meet, but—”

“But we ran into each other,” Sam finished. “Yeah, I guess I remember that. I didn’t even really notice him. What else did he say about that?”

Colby shrugged. “Just that he knew you had the Sight. He didn’t know who you were, though.”

Sam hummed. He stared at the bed, playing with his fingers. Colby wondered what he was thinking about: That woman? Or maybe Marcus? Colby tsked. He was kind of tired of Sam thinking about Marcus.

“I want to go tonight,” Sam said finally. He nodded for confirmation, but Colby didn’t know who it was toward.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to try to find Willow.”

“Fine. Metalife, right?”

Sam grinned. “And cherry.”

“We should retire cherry.”

“It hasn’t even been used yet!”

“And it should never be.” Sam scoffed, but he was smiling. Colby grabbed his phone. “I’ll text Elton and tell him we’re in.”

Sam nodded. “And I’ll get dressed. Cause we’re going to get breakfast.” He crawled off the bed.

Colby laughed. “It’s not breakfast time.”

“But McDonald’s still serves it. I’m craving their pancakes.”

Colby smiled. “Fine.” He hummed as he texted Elton. “Whatever you want, love.”

Five minutes later, Sam’s leaning against the doorframe with one foot in the hall. “Let’s goooo,” he whined. “I’m hungry.”

“Coming,” Colby replied. He moved slowly, waiting for Elton’s message to come through. “Hey, are you down for an overnight at the bridge?”

Sam paused. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought it over. “Nah,” he said finally. He turned his head toward the hallway.

Colby nodded. “Okay. Not this time, Uncle.” He pocketed his phone. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“… you talking about?” Sam was saying when Colby rounded the corner. He stopped short just behind Sam. Over his shoulder, he could see Hailey standing across the hall, leaning against her own doorway.

She frowned at him. “What are _you_ talking about?” she asked. “I was just wondering when we should discuss what happened with the undercover operation last night.”

Colby realized with a jolt that she wasn’t aware that the spell didn’t work on them. She was trying to play it off like the black market had only been one night ago, not two. Because of this, he nudged his way past Sam and into the hallway. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Your spell didn’t work,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“We remember everything, Hailey. _Everything.”_

Hailey opened her mouth and closed it again. “Oh,” she mumbled. “How did you—”

“Immunity potion,” Colby answered.

“Ah.” She nodded slowly. “Their waters. That was smart.”

“Thanks.”

Sam was working on locking the door. Once he was finished, he took Colby’s hand. “Come on,” he whispered, pulling him toward the elevator.

They’d made it halfway down the hall before Hailey called after them, “So, I guess there’s no chance of me explaining this?” Once they turned to her, she added, “No chance of you hearing me out?”

“How would we know you’re telling the truth?” Sam asked. “You could just lie to us again.”

Hailey shifted her weight. “You don’t understand. I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Colby almost argued with her, but he chose to swallow it down. He didn’t want to fight. Not in the hallway, not at all really. He looked back at Sam, who side-eyed him and rocked on his heels.

“That’s your issue then,” Sam finally said. “Because I can’t find justification in lying to someone like that.”

“So it is,” she agreed softly. “Apparently.” Her eyes darted. “Then I just have one thing to ask, not as a friend, but as the High Priestess.” She pulled her door shut and made her way over. When she was close enough, she said in a hushed tone, “I need you guys to hand over the Global Drug.”

“Why?” Sam said.

“Because it’s a serious threat to the supernatural world, and it needs to be in safe hands with the witch council.”

Colby chewed on his lip. “What are they going to do with it?”

Hailey raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t really concern you—”

“Aren’t they the ones who tried hiding the existence of the supernatural world from your guys?” Sam asked. He frowned. “I feel like giving them the drug that exposes the supernatural world wouldn’t be safe for the other creatures.”

“And you think it’s safer with _you?”_

“Yeah?” Colby scoffed. “Out of everyone, we’re probably the best people to keep it. _We_ haven’t been untrustworthy at all.”

“Besides, shouldn’t you have plenty with what Jo got away with?” Sam asked.

Hailey rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about just getting a _sample,_ Sam. What you have is the last of Marcus’ supply for right now.”

“Which means he’s not selling it, so it’s not a threat to anyone,” Colby said. He lifted his chin. “It’s staying with us.”

She scoffed. “It’s never easy with you guys, is it?” She shook her head. “You can never just do what you’re told.”

Sam smirked. “Yeah, we kind of do our own thing.”

Hailey’s ringtone cut through the tense silence creeping in. She grabbed it from her pocket after a moment’s hesitation. As she answered, Sam and Colby turned toward the elevator.

“Hello?” Colby heard her say.

“I kinda think we should still give her the drugs,” Sam admitted quietly. “I mean, what are _we_ going to do with it?”

Colby hummed. “Call me petty,” he replied, “but there’s just something satisfying about keeping something from someone who stabbed me in the back.”

Sam chewed on his lip. “Fair point.”

Behind them, Hailey gasped. And they looked, even though Colby told himself not to. He turned, heart leaping to his throat and pulsing down to his feet all at once. He didn’t like the way Hailey’s face twisted while she listened to whatever bad news poured out of the phone. Colby shared a nervous look with Sam. He doubted that was a coworker from Hailey’s day job on the other end.

When she hung up, she looked back at them. For a second, Colby thought she’d say something. For a second, _he_ thought he’d say something. The ever-growing wall between them seemed nonexistent again, in that moment. It was on the tip of her tongue, he could tell. Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted slightly and frozen around the buzz of her shock.

But then she shook her head, as if reminding herself of where they stood now. She turned on her heel and rushed back to her apartment, phone to her ear as she hurried into another phone call.

Her door shut. Silence fell over them. Neither moved for a minute; Colby was replaying the last thirty seconds in his head. Who called her? What was the phone call about?

“That was weird,” Sam finally said.

Colby humphed. “Yeah.”

In the parking garage, Colby received his own phone call. He’d just pulled his seatbelt across his body while Sam was backing out of a parking spot. The call came from somewhere in California, but not Los Angeles. He considered ignoring it, like he usually did with unrecognizable numbers—telemarketers are annoying as fuck—but Hailey’s phone call was still fresh in his mind. The chances of them being related were slim, but still.

He answered.

And a young girl replied. “Colby,” she said. “It’s Alley.”

His head jerked back, eyes widening. “Alley?” he repeated. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam glance at him.

“From the Witches Forest,” she explained. “Remember, the place with the werewolves?”

“Yeah, hard to forget.” He put the phone on speaker and held it between them. “Hey, what happened after that ritual? You disappeared.”

“I wanted to stay back and try helping the girl.”

“Really?” Colby swallowed thickly. He’d always wondered what happened to her. He hoped she managed to get away, alive and okay. He hoped she was back with her family. Sometimes, he imagined them moving far away to a safer place, like one of the Dakotas or Kentucky. Somewhere with no coven leaders or crazed witches.

“After you and the others left, we made it down the hill to a main street. I found a gas station and called for help.”

“So, she’s okay?”

“Yeah, just traumatized. Really, I think we were _both_ traumatized after that.”

“That makes three of us.”

“What happened on your end? I saw the forest the next day when I went to get our phones.” She sighed heavily. “Looked like a giant, I don’t know, steamroller went through there.”

“Yeah, um.” Colby rubbed his neck. “You know, deranged witches.”

Alley hummed. “Right. Well uh, maybe you can tell me something else then? There was an attack here last night.”

“An attack?” Sam repeated softly.

Colby frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The werewolves. Someone attacked the werewolves.”

“Shit,” Sam said breathlessly.

Colby’s eyes flickered to him while the gears in his head started to turn. Alley continued, “They’re um… they’re all dead.”

Sam gasped, and the car jerked to the left suddenly. Colby reached for the hand in his lap. “Careful,” he whispered. To Alley, he asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “My brother’s girlfriend was in the pack. She didn’t come home last night. So, he and her dad went out to the woods to see if they could find her, and…” She inhaled sharply. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “And they were just _laying_ _there._ In wolf form. Some were—were covered in bullet holes. He said there was _so much blood…”_

Alley took a breath to steady herself. She cleared her throat before continuing, “I guess I’m just wondering if you might know something? You guys were the last outsiders up here.”

Sam frowned. “What’s she—”

Colby silenced him with a wave of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he told her, “we don’t know anything.” Even as he said it, he knew it was wrong. He knew _something,_ at least had an idea. He looked at Sam, who kept his eyes trained on the road, face scrunched up like he’s in his own thoughts. Sam was great at picking out his lies. Did he know Colby wasn't telling the whole truth? Was that what he thought about in silence a few inches away?

“If I find anything out, you’ll be the first to know,” Colby promised.

“Thanks.” She sniffed again. “Can you pass this on to the High Priestess? I know witches don’t care much for werewolves, but maybe if she knows they were murdered, then…”

They wouldn’t care. Rodrick wouldn’t at least. Hailey, maybe. He wasn’t sure about Val.

Colby nodded regardless. “I’ll let her know.”

“Okay,” she said on a shaky breath. “Okay. Thank you.”

They talked for a few more minutes before she finally hung up. Colby settled into his seat, dragging a hand down his face and sighing heavily.

“I can’t believe someone would do that,” Sam said. He flicked a turning signal on and stopped behind a truck. _“Why_ would they do that? A werewolf pack in the mountains?”

“Sam.”

“Hm?”

Colby stared at his hands, twisting a ring on one of his fingers. “I think I know who did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYYY!!! it's been a while!!!! how are you guys!!!!!
> 
> I actually planned on coming back the second week of October bc that's when one of my classes ends (it's bi-term) but I really missed posting so here I am :)))))
> 
> someone mentioned doing bi-weekly updates (I'm really sorry I can't remember who; I didn't know when I deleted the chapter that those comments would leave my inbox too :( ) and I think I'm gonna try that for the time being!
> 
> I'm sooo happy to be back! tell me what you thought of this week's—long, in the spirit of returning—chapter! and I'll see you all in two weeks :)))


	23. first week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TFIL returns to the Suicide Bridge.

“I thought we weren’t staying the night, Elton.”

“And I thought you were joking, Colby.”

Colby paused halfway down the stairs to look up at Elton. Below him, Sam and Corey continued. Sam had a flashlight on his feet while Corey kept his aimed at the trees ahead.

“Hey, I’d hurry up,” Sam called over his shoulder. “We’re the ones with the flashlights.” He slowed down until he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Then, he caught up with Corey.

“I wasn’t joking,” Colby continued. “I don’t think any of us are up for an overnight paranormal investigation.”

“Corey, I get. You and Sam, though?” Elton scoffed. “What’s up with you?”

Sam stopped. He looked back at them. “Remember last time when we all got possessed and almost killed you with rocks?” Elton and Colby stared; Sam nodded. “Yeah.” He continued down the stairs.

“I still think you guys set that up,” Elton stated.

“What about that time a homeless person stole Corey’s blanket?” Colby added.

“That wasn’t a person!” Corey cried.

“Point is, weird stuff happens during overnights here,” Sam said.

“Sam, you’re like the biggest skeptic I know!” Elton laughed. “Since when are you scared of ghosts?”

“We’ve been doing paranormal stuff all summer dude.”

“And? Have you actually captured anything good?”

Sam waved his light over the side of the stairs. The further they went, the darker things became. These weren’t typical shadows beneath a bridge. They moved with them, crawling alongside them and stopping when they did. Weird.

“Corey, shine your light down there,” Sam said quietly.

“Why?” Corey asked, but he did it anyway. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and merged his light with Sam’s. Shadow figures hurried to the edges of the beam. There were at least four people standing a few feet away.

“What?” Colby asked.

“Don’t tell me you see something already,” Elton joked.

Sam shook his head. “I thought I did, but no. Let’s just get off these stairs.”

Corey didn’t move. He eyed Sam and asked in a hushed tone, “Are you sure?”

“I’d tell you if it was something to worry about,” Sam replied with a nod for extra reassurance.

“Okay.”

“So, we’re really not staying the night here?” Elton asked once they’d reached the ground. He aimed the camera at the others.

Colby shook his head. “Nah, I’d much rather sleep in my own bed.”

“Fine, but to make up for that, we’re playing with the Ouija board.”

“Hell no—” Corey began.

“Okay,” Sam agreed.

“What?!” Corey rounded on Sam. “Seriously?”

“You don’t have to play it.”

“Uh, yes he does. Nothing ever happened until he played, remember?”

Sam grinned. “Well, lucky for you I’ve done plenty of 3 AM Challenges to piss off spirits. I can cause enough trouble for everyone.”

Colby chuckled. “He’s probably right.”

Elton shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”

It took fifteen minutes for them to reach their spot: the familiar corner beneath the bridge with a patch of grass and four NOs still spray painted along the side of a cement wall. Someone stood next to the wall, a small woman with balding hair, chanting “No! No! No!” as they passed. They made camp a few feet away, on the grass and next to a flat rock they played the Ouija board on a few times. 

Elton unzipped his duffel bag and handed out blankets. “Figured you guys would forget,” he explained with a shrug.

“We didn’t forget,” Colby replied. “Because we’re not _staying.”_

Elton cracked a smile. “Sure.”

They turned on a few cheap lanterns they’d bought at a dollar store on the way and placed them around the area. Truthfully, they didn’t help much. Their range only stretched a foot or two in diameter. But, Sam appreciated not all of their surroundings being completely engulfed in darkness.

“Can we just do this and get it over with?” Corey asked with a sigh.

“You always sound so against this, yet you agreed to it,” Elton pointed out. “Seriously, what’s with you guys? You used to be all about this.”

“I was never _all about it,”_ Corey argued. He shrugged. “But it is kind of… cool. Sometimes. _Not_ under a haunted as fuck bridge, though.”

Sam struggled with focusing on his friends. A low hum followed them from the street, but the closer they got to their destination, the louder everything became. He couldn’t tell how many people were actually around. There were numerous voices. Their words blended into each other, scratchy chatter that made his ears buzz as they battled for a spotlight to tell their stories. He turned in a circle slowly, dragging his light across the hillside and over the riverbed. Not only did shadow people linger nearby, but regular ghosts were around too. He’d never seen such a mixture in one place before.

“Sam?”

He blinked and looked at Corey. Colby siddled next to him and reached for his hand. Elton had the camera trained on them.

“You good man?” Elton asked.

“What? Yeah. I’m fine. Just… keep hearing stuff.” _Hearing stuff,_ perfect. That was always a safe answer during these videos.

Someone stood on his other side. _“You’re bold,”_ they whispered in his ear. He tensed, subconsciously squeezing Colby’s hand as chills shot down his spine. _“Coming to us? With your ability?”_ They chuckled.

Elton and Corey turned to set up the candles. With the camera off him, Sam tipped his flashlight up at the woman. Looking at least ten years older than him, she stood near his height, long brown hair in frizzy braids, a hole in the side of her forehead surrounded by cracked skin and smeared with blood that matched her red lipstick. She moved closer, curled her manicured fingers in Sam’s hair. He didn’t feel it, but he watched her arm snake around his neck, and for a split second, he imagined the tips of her fingernails dragging across his scalp.

 _“I_ love _a daring type,”_ she purred against the shell of his ear.

Sam blinked once, then again. “O–Okay!” he said with a forced laugh. He moved to help Elton and Corey, and he dragged Colby with him. _Weirdest ghost experience ever,_ he decided with a head shake.

And then—for the camera, as he’d tell Elton later—he pulled Colby to him in a kiss that left them both flustered and surprised. Why did he feel compelled to show off his boyfriend to a literal cougar _ghost?_ There wasn’t an explanation, but he got a kiss from Colby out of it, so he made it make sense.

Colby kissed him again after he’d pulled away. Arms circled his waist, fingers brushed over Sam’s ears and into his hair, and his chest loosened immediately. This! _This_ was right. This was the only person who should be touching Sam like that.

“Oh God,” Elton groaned. “We turned our backs for two seconds!”

As they broke away, Colby made a show of his tongue running over Sam’s lower lip. Beside them, Corey and Elton gagged. Elton shouted something about being demonetized. Corey whined about a loss of innocence. Sam and Colby grinned at each other, revelling in their joke.

They’d kissed in silence. Sam realized only after they’d jumped back into the video. As Colby turned away from him to light the candles, the voices swept in like a tidal wave again, loud and vibrating, and he wondered how he could ever forget them. They swallowed up his friends’ words. Their bodies clouded his vision as they curiously moved closer.

_“He just kissed another male!”_

_“Not her fault, not her fault, not her fault, not her—”_

_“So_ daring _.”_

_“—baby? Have you seen my baby? Has anyone seen my baby?”_

_“I remember him. I remember him. He’s familiar. I remember him.”_

_“Why haven’t they found me yet? Why am I still down here? Can you help me? Hello?”_

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“So, are we ready to go?” Elton asked.

“Ah, hang on,” Colby said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. “Safety precautions.”

Elton laughed. “You just keep salt in your pocket?”

“Gotta be prepared for anything, brother.” He looked back at Sam. “Ready?”

 _“Ready?”_ someone mocked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

Elton set up the camera on a nearby rock. They gathered around one side of the Ouija board. Sam stood between Elton and Colby. A salt circle surrounded them. Crooked, but a circle nonetheless. He eyed the open space across from them. No one was able to cross the salt, but he wondered who would get close. Who would be brave enough to try talking to them?

“We all remember how this works, right?” Sam asked. His friends nodded, but he explained anyway, “Move the planchette in a circle two times before asking a question.”

He hadn’t played with a Ouija board since that time at Marcus’. He wondered if Kate was among the crowd, itching to make a connection again.

When Sam sensed no one wanted to ask the first question, he did, “Is there anyone here with us right now?” Dozens of answers poured in, some sincere and some mocking. None of them showed on the board. He tried again, more specific, “If there’s someone who wants to talk, move this planchette to yes.” As an afterthought, because he remembered he’s supposed to be _respectful,_ “Please.”

Corey flinched back suddenly. Elton raised an eyebrow. Colby inhaled sharply.

“Is it just me,” Corey began, “or did it just get darker?”

“We’re under a bridge at night,” Elton replied with a laugh. “Of course it’s dark.”

“No. Look at the rock.” Corey pointed over the board. “It wasn’t dark there before.” He grabbed a candle and waved it over the spot to be sure. The fire did little to eat away the night. The planchette inched forward at the same time; Corey almost dropped the candle in surprise.

“Oh God, please put the candle down,” Colby said. He shook his head. “The last thing we need is to start the next California Fire.”

“That’d be great clickbait though,” Elton reasoned.

Sam snickered. “In all caps: ‘WE STARTED THE CALIFORNIA FIRES!!’. Two exclamation points.”

“Is it even a YouTube video without all caps?” Colby joked.

The planchette spelled out a word: HELLO.

“Hi,” Sam said.

“Yo,” Corey added with a shaky exhale.

“Who are you?” Elton asked.

It moved quickly. Sam hummed thoughtfully as he listened to his friends spell the word out loud.

“M-Y-R-T-L-E.”

“Myrtle Ward?” Sam asked.

YES

“Why do you know that?” Elton whispered loudly.

Sam shrugged. “I just did some research on this place; it wasn’t hard to find. Myrtle Ward jumped off the bridge with her three year old daughter. She’d just lost her job during the Great Depression, so I guess I get it.”

By the time he finished, the planchette was moving again.

B-A-B-Y

 _Question mark,_ he added himself. She was the one asking about her baby.

“Your daughter survived,” Sam answered. “I think she’s actually one of the few in the bridge’s history.”

“Why the fuck would she throw her own daughter off a bridge?” Colby demanded.

Sam shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t want her daughter growing up in the Great Depression.”

“That’s fair,” Corey said. “I wouldn’t either.”

“How’d her daughter survive?” Elton asked.

“Landed in a tree.”

“She fell from all the way up there,” Colby said, aiming his flashlight at the bridge towering over them, “and landed in a tree and fucking _survived?”_

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah. I couldn’t find a lot of people whose stories ended with them still breathing.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause she didn’t jump,” Corey suggested. He looked around the darkness like he was searching for something. “She wasn’t old enough to decide whether she wanted to live or die yet, so the universe gave her more time to make that decision.”

A long stretch of silence settled between them as they stared at Corey, dumbfounded. Corey’s gaze finally found its way back to his friends. They looked at each other for a minute, equally confused but about different things.

Finally, Corey asked, “What?”

“That was just so…” Colby trailed.

“Deep,” Sam finished.

Elton nodded. “That was fortune cookie level wisdom there, dude.”

“Doesn’t mean it justifies you stealing mine at dinner earlier,” Sam added with a pointed glare.

Corey chuckled. “You weren’t going to eat it.”

“I wasn’t finished with my meal yet!”

“Children, _please,”_ Colby stressed, stepping between them. “You guys are so loud. You’ll wake the dead.”

Sam grinned. “Oh, they’re already awake.”

Colby was biting back a smile when Elton waved his hands toward the board, “Let’s try this again before whatever possessed Sam says something creepy again.”

“You mean, like…” Sam laid his hands on the board and leaned across the rock to get in Elton’s face. “There’s someone standing _right behind you.”_ His eyes almost flickered to see what actually stood behind Elton, but then he remembered the red that came with doing that, and he stopped.

“Yes,” Elton answered. “Exactly like that. Fucking weirdo.”

Sam chuckled. He settled back on the soles of his feet and moved the planchette back to the center of the board. Just as his fingers withdrew from the game, a voice rang through the trees.

“Excuse me!”

He frowned, didn’t look. Instead, he turned to his friends, ready for the next attempt.

But they’re all staring in the direction of that voice. Corey said, “The fuck was that?”

Sam squinted at the darkness. “Oh, you guys heard that too?”

A guy emerged from the darkness, young and short for a man, with short dark hair and matching eyes. He wore a blue shirt with the top three buttons undone and light wash jeans. A silver cross hung around his neck. It glared under their flashlights.

His gaze swept over the scene. “Good lord,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you’re down here summoning demons.”

“Not demons,” Sam answered. “Just seeing if we can talk to anyone.”

“And who are you?” Elton asked.

“I’m Blaine.”

“Okay,” Colby replied. “Why are you here?”

Blaine touched his chest. He scooped the cross into his hand and smudged his thumb across the front.

 _“A nonbeliever,”_ someone hissed.

 _“Touched by a demon and still refuses to acknowledge it,”_ another sneered.

_A seer, perhaps?_

“This game is evil,” Blaine said. “You shouldn’t play it. It’s dangerous.”

“Well,” Sam said with a shrug, “you’re welcome to leave.”

“We’re kind of trying to film a video here,” Elton explained, gesturing to his camera. “We ghost hunt a lot.”

“They don’t want to be hunted.”

Corey gave his friends weird looks over his shoulder. Colby returned them, but Sam was too focused on this guy. If he wasn’t on board with this, why was he sticking around?

“Is there a reason you don’t want us to do this?” Sam asked. He moved around Colby to get a better look at the guy, but then Blaine pulled something out of his jacket suddenly. Colby’s hand immediately caught Sam’s arm and yanked him back.

“Whoa, whoa!” Elton shouted.

Colby blocked Sam, hand thrusting out in front of him and fingers spread like he might cast a spell if Blaine tried anything. There must’ve been something in Colby’s eyes because Blaine staggered back suddenly, his own widening with fear.

“Colby,” Sam said, trying to get around him. Colby wouldn’t budge.

Blaine meekly revealed whatever he grabbed. It was a small glass bottle of water. “Holy water,” he explained, dangling it in front of his face between his thumb and his finger. He had his other hand by his head in his defense. “You guys need holy water if you’re going to summon demons, please don’t hurt me,” he rushed the last part, eyes darting between Colby and the ground.

“It’s okay,” Sam told him, moving to the front. “He won’t hurt you. None of us will.”

Blaine shifted his weight. He eyed Colby over Sam’s shoulder, not seeming to believe a word. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “I’m going. Just wanted to make sure you guys are doing it safely.”

“Why?” Sam asked. “You don’t even know us.”

When Blaine’s gaze swept over their group, Sam caught a hint of red flash across his eyes. His heart skipped a beat.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Sam asked, startling everyone.

“What?” Corey said. 

“Dude, you don’t even know him,” Elton argued.

Sam looked back at Colby, who poked his tongue into his cheek. He held Sam’s gaze for a few seconds, probably thinking it over.

“Don’t go far,” Colby finally said. He eyed Blaine with a glare that wasn’t like him at all. Trying to scare him obviously, but Sam knew that wasn’t needed. Blaine was freaked when Colby took the first step toward him. He grabbed a lantern off the ground and offered it to Sam. “If something happens…”

“You’ll know,” Sam promised with a nod, taking the lantern. He squeezed Colby’s hand before pulling away and turning to Blaine. “Come on, let’s go down the river.”

Blaine stiffly fell into step with Sam. He kept his shoulders near his ears, and his hands twitched at his side as they walked away. Sam tried focusing on him, figuring out what his deal was, and not on his friends they left behind.

But, they were loud.

“What the fuck?” Elton demanded. “Colby.”

“He’ll be fine,” Colby reassured.

“You just let him walk off with a stranger! Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”

“That guy seemed harmless,” Corey added.

“That guy was _creepy.”_

Colby sighed. “Look, it’s kind of hard to explain…”

Only a few yards from them, the world was already clouded in shadows again. Their candles flickered on the rock. With that small bit of light, everything else felt like a narrow tunnel. He could feel the heavy presence of the many people crowding the site. His claustrophobia made his chest ache.

He stopped at a spot where his friends’ voices were soft, but not silent. Looking back, he saw Colby leaned against the rock, ankles crossed and elbows on near the candles. He had his gaze on them; Sam waved the lantern—for reassurance or just to say hi? He wasn’t sure—and Colby nodded in return.

“So,” Sam began, turning to Blaine, “you’re a seer, right?” He held the lantern up, so he could see Blaine’s face.

“A what?”

“A seer. Someone with the demonic Sight.”

Blaine frowned at him. “I’m… not following.”

“Earlier when you looked around the clearing, your eyes were red for like, half a second. You saw something, didn’t you?” Blaine shifted his weight, eyes immediately dropping to the ground. Sam nodded in understanding. “Yeah, those were ghosts. You can see them because you have the Sight.”

“How do you know about it?”

Sam smiled. “Takes one to know one.”

Blaine crossed his arms. He rocked on his heels and furrowed his eyebrows, probably trying to collect his thoughts. Sam waited patiently. He remembered the first time he told someone: it was Colby, and he wasn’t exactly _patient._ In his defense though, they were in Australia, in the middle of nowhere with the rest of their group still inside of an abandoned hospital. Sam had been surrounded by spirits of previous patients; he couldn’t even see Colby past the crowd. Now that he thought about it, that night was very similar to his current situation.

“When I heard you guys coming down here,” Blaine finally spoke, “I had a bad feeling you were going to be doing something like that.” He gestured toward the others. “That’s all people do down here at night.”

“That’s it?” Sam chuckled. “You’re telling me no one deals drugs here?”

“Well…” Blaine huffed a laugh. “Maybe that too.”

“So you saw us coming, and what? Why intervene like that?”

Blaine shifted his weight. “Most people don’t understand what they’re getting into when they play with Ouija boards. And I can’t stop them, of course, but maybe if I can offer tips or warn them before they do anything, they’ll be safer.”

Sam frowned. “Does that have anything to do with you getting the Sight?” He avoided Sam’s eyes. Sam sighed. “I know we don’t know each other, but dude, I can’t judge you for whatever your reason is. I have the exact same thing.”

“I guess I’m just not used to talking about it. It’s still so new.”

“How new?”

“About a week.”

“A week?!” Sam cried. “Dude! How are you down here right now? I’ve had it for almost a year, and I was _still_ nervous about this place.”

As soon as he said it—damnit—he realized his mistake. The voices started up again, teasing and ridiculing. He grit his teeth and tightened his hold on the lantern.

 _“Scared?”_ one mocked.

 _“Of us?”_ another added. _“He’s scared of us!”_

 _“Perfect,”_ they purred.

_“As he should be.”_

_“I love the taste of_ fear _in the witching hour.”_

“They seriously aren’t bothering you right now?” Sam asked, almost exasperated.

“Well, now that you mention it…" Blaine shakes his head, shrugging. "But I live in a house full of people on one of the busiest streets in LA. I guess I’m used to focusing on things while blocking everything else out.”

“And that works?” he asked, even though his mind instantly went back to earlier when yeah, that exact thing worked. He thought it’d just been a hoax.

“I thought they were just voices,” Blaine explained quietly. “Thought I was just going crazy. Now that I know they’re actual people, I…”

 _I’m seeing everything differently._ Sam imagined that’s what Blaine thought as he scanned the hovering spirits. His eyes glared a fierce red at their observers. Sam inhaled deeply, trying to remind himself not to focus on how many there actually were.

“Don’t let that change things,” he said. “It sounds like you’re handling this well. Don’t let knowing what it actually is change the way you deal with this.”

“I always thought the people I saw on the street were just in recent accidents. I thought they were just waiting on help to arrive.” Blaine smiled sadly. “Now that I say it out loud, it sounds really naive.”

Sam shook his head slowly. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I guess I always knew. Hearing you say it out loud—explain that these are actually dead voices I’m hearing—doesn’t surprise me like it should. In the back of my mind, maybe I’d already figured it out.”

“But you were in denial,” Sam finished. “I think that’s normal. One hundred percent valid, dude.”

“Are there others like us?” Blaine added quickly, “I mean, of course there are. There have to be, right? But have you met others?”

Sam chewed on his lip. “A few.”

“Have they had it for a while?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Blaine chuckled. “So, there’s hope for us?”

Sam swallowed thickly. He took a moment to think, to decide his next words carefully, because the only thing running through his mind was that both of the people he’d known with the long term Sight—Taylor and Willow—were both dead now. And although he wasn’t sure about either, he had a sinking feeling that their Sight was the leading cause.

“Yeah,” he said finally, staring at the ground. He nodded a few times; he didn’t know whether he was reassuring himself or Blaine. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

“Hey, thank you for telling me all of this. You’re the first person who’s understood.”

Sam hummed. _Full circle, huh?_

“Look, let me give you some advice," he says. "Put on a brave face, always.” Sam’s stomach turned with memories. “Don’t let them know you’re scared.” They began teasing again, but he focused on Blaine and that summer day on the street corner. “You have to look them straight in the eyes and tell them to _fuck off.”_

“That sounds easier said than done.”

_What if I can’t do it?_

Sam looked him over. “You sound like you have a nice life.”

Blaine smiled. “Yeah, I’m working toward becoming a vet.”

“This ability can destroy everything if you let it.” Sam raised his chin. “Don’t let it, okay?”

Just before they went their separate ways, Blaine hugged him. It was obviously out of his comfort zone because when he pulled away, his eyes were on the ground, and he muttered apologies under his breath. That only made Sam smile, though. It made him relate because once upon a time, that was him.

When he returned to his friends, they were playing the Ouija board again. Colby glanced at him as he approached. “Where’s your friend?” he asked.

“Gone,” Sam answered. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Some guy named Tim,” Corey answered.

Colby nodded slowly. “Yeah. He doesn’t seem very _Metalife.”_

Elton snickered. “The fuck does that mean?”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes met Colby’s. He couldn’t figure anything out by the look, but the muscles in Colby’s jaw were clenching and unclenching. Sam forced a yawn.

“I’m tired,” he complained. “Let’s go home.”

“And stop talking to Tim?” Corey joked.

Colby eyed the planchette sliding across the board to NO. “S’not Tim.”

Sam moved next to him. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Who’s communicating with us right now?” Sam asked loudly.

They stared at the board in silence. Slowly, the planchette inched toward the letters. It spelled out a name: SAM.

Corey inhaled sharply. “It said _Sam!”_

Which would be chilling, maybe, if not for the hyena laughter behind Sam followed by, “You _are communicating with us! Ha ha.”_

Unfunny ghosts. Sam rolled his eyes; the worst kind.

“Did you just _roll your eyes_ at the demon board spelling out your name?” Elton asked in awe with a grin.

“Everyone’s gonna think he’s possessed,” Corey teased, but then he eyed Sam like he really considered the possibility.

The planchette suddenly moved to GOODBYE, and Colby stepped away. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’m ready to leave,” he said.

“What? Why?” Elton asked. “Nothing even happened.”

“Just getting bad vibes, man.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, let’s get going.”

Elton groaned. “Seriously? We didn’t even get good footage! The weirdest thing to happen was that guy showing up.”

“You can clickbait that! Say I left with a guy or something,” Sam suggested. “You’ll get drama views too.”

“Fine, on one condition.”

“What?”

“You explain _why_ you left with him.” Elton grabbed the camera from its place on the rock and aimed it at Sam.

“At the car, okay?”

Elton huffed. He switched off his camera. “Fine.”

As soon as his camera switched off, the planchette jerked to one end of the board. Colby gasped. Corey jumped back. Elton scrambled to turn his camera back on. Chills ran down Sam’s spine.

It landed on W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy thursday!!! I missed you all!!! I feel like a lot has happened in the last two weeks, but really, I just started a new job & quit my old one. which is actually a big deal because my old job at a haunted movie theater was where I first came up with the idea for this story—I'd only been working there for a few weeks :')) the memories


	24. is it selfish to love yourself, baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elton totally gets pranked, haha! And Hailey makes a deal with someone… ha ha…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey! happy thursday on a monday day! hope this super rare, nearly unheard of, holiday goes well for you! and thanks for reading! :)

The planchette moved back and forth on its own, slow, careful, lingering on each letter to ensure they could spell it out: W-I-L-L-O-W.

“Sam,” Colby breathed, looking over at him.

“Who the hell is Willow?” Elton demanded. He panned the camera up to them.

Corey stared at the board. “I know I shouldn’t be shocked, but damn… I’ve never seen it move on its own like that.”

“Why  _ wouldn’t _ you be shocked about that?” Elton asked, incredulous.

Sam eyed the shadows that inched closer every second before looking to Colby.

Colby shrugged, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me.” He laughed softly, gaze darting. “I still don’t like the vibes here.” He couldn’t put his finger on them: evil or friendly or just unknown? He subconsciously shifted closer to Sam.

“Do you want to leave?”

“I—” Colby chewed on his lip. “No,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation. He looked at Sam. “This is why you came down here.”

“We don’t have to stay here though.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure?”

Colby nodded. “Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m good.”

He imagined Sam didn’t really believe that. Still, he muttered an “okay” under his breath, kissed Colby’s cheek, then turned back to the board. And the spotlight and camera aimed right at him.

“Um,” Sam said, leaning his hands on the rock, fingers curling inches from the board. “How did you die, Willow?”

Corey stepped forward, hesitant, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t we need to—”

The planchette lurched across the board, untouched. Colby and Elton inched forward. They all leaned over the rock, watching a new word spelled before their eyes.

“Geez,” Sam muttered. “One at a time.”

Colby, instead of contemplating how many voices were running around his head at that moment, looked to Elton. “Hey,” he said, catching Elton’s attention. “I think you need to turn the camera off, Elton.”

“What?” Elton replied. “No way. Why?”

“Jumped,” Corey announced, glancing up at Sam. “She jumped.”

“Yeah.” Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “That’s what they’re mostly saying.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he met Corey’s gaze. “They’re fucking annoying.”   


Corey actually chuckled. “Dude, you can’t say that!”

“What the hell is going on?” Elton asked. “I’m confused.” He lowered the camera to his hip, but he left it running. Colby glanced between it and him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We told you,” Colby answered. “Sam has demon friends.”

“Should we, like…” Corey suggested, eyeing Colby while nodding subtly at Elton.

“The fuck does that mean?!” Elton cried. He laughed out loud, but Colby couldn’t tell if his nerves were beginning to creep in or if he genuinely found them funny.

Colby opened his mouth to answer, but then he paused. He stepped closer to Sam and whispered, “How far do you want to take this? Do you want to talk to her?”

“I don’t know if she’s here.” Sam turned to Colby as his eyes flooded red. “They’re all shadows. I can’t tell who’s who.”

“You think Corey can help?”

Sam huffed. “Doubt it. None of them will shut up long enough to finish a sentence.” Colby snickered. Sam chewed his lip; Colby could tell he was trying not to laugh. “I don’t know,” he continued. “Maybe this is just a lost cause.”

“I can distract Elton if you want to ask directly.”   


They held each other's gaze for a moment while Sam made a decision. He yanked his sleeves over his hands. “For a second?” he asked. “I just—they’re saying multiple things. I just want to know if any of the other stuff is true.”

“Okay.” Colby nodded over Sam’s shoulder. “Maybe we can distract the loud ones and still get Elton some content.”

Sam chuckled. “Be careful.”

“It’s only a Ouija board,” Colby said, waving it off as he stepped around Sam. “What could go wrong?”

Sam grinned. “You don’t want to know what they just said.”

“No, I don’t.” Colby shook his head. “Keep it to yourself.” He took Sam’s spot in front of the board and looked at his friends. “Elton, you gotta join us for this round.”

“Where’s Sam going?” Elton asked.

“To pee.”

“In the dark?”

Colby raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? So no one sees him?”

Elton stared. Then he grumbled about how weird they were acting and stepped behind Corey to find a spot to balance the camera. While he worked on that, Corey leaned over the board.

“What’s really happening?” he whispered.

“We’re the distraction,” Colby replied, grinning. “For everyone.”

“Okay,” Elton said, stepping between Colby and Corey. “Are we going to keep talking to Willow?”

Corey shook his head. “No way. Let’s see who else is around.”

Five minutes passed, and the most activity they managed to pester their ghost for was a few rocks rolling down the hillside. Colby wasn’t  _ too _ impressed, Corey flinched every time it happened, but Elton wouldn’t stop asking  _ questions. _ Questions about why the rocks kept falling;  _ how _ the rocks kept falling; what happened to Sam; if this whole thing was just a setup to scare him.

When a session ended with them forcing the planchette to GOODBYE, Colby shared a look with Corey. Colby tapped his fingers against the rock slowly. His touch lingered on the stone, noting how cool and rough it felt beneath his skin.

“I think Sam got lost,” Elton joked. Perhaps he was serious, though; Sam had been gone that whole time. Colby and Corey looked in the direction they’d last seen him. Colby wondered, with restrained concern, where he’d disappeared to.

“Think we should go look—” Corey began.

“Hey,” Sam called, stepping into sight. He squinted, raising a hand to block out the light. “Man, that’s a lot brighter when you wander around in darkness for ten minutes.”

“Where’d you go?” Elton asked. “That was a long pee.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh—” He looked at Colby then back at Elton. “Oh. Uh yeah, I just went far out. I heard some rocks falling…”

“Yeah, that was down here!” Corey explained.

“Think we annoyed a ghost long enough for it to try throwing rocks at us,” Colby said with a grin. Sam chuckled.

“Yeah,” Elton agreed slowly. “That was a ghost. _ Sure.” _

Sam shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. “I guess it could’ve been an animal.”

“Or it was you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” Elton pointed accusingly. “As soon as you left, the rocks started falling! And you were gone long enough to get to the top of the hill to push them!”

“You’re… right,” Sam admitted. He nodded. “You’re right. That’s why we’ve been acting so weird tonight! Ha ha, pranked ya!”

Corey grinned while Colby laughed. Elton rolled his eyes. “I  _ knew _ something weird was going on,” he said. “You guys are terrible at lying, you know?”

Colby smiled. “Yeah.”

“We tried,” Corey defended, laughing.

“So, that guy from earlier was in on it?”

“Uh-huh,” Sam answered. “Totally.”

Elton shook his head. “Unbelievable.” As he turned to grab the camera, Colby caught a smirk on his face too.

“Where are those blankets?” Sam mumbled, even though he spotted them mid-sentence. He reached past Colby to grab them, but Colby beat him to it.

“So, what happened?” he asked while unfolding the blanket.

“Some said she was alone when she jumped. Others swear someone else was with her.”

Colby threw the blanket around Sam’s shoulders and pulled it tight across his chest. As he worked, Sam snuck a quick kiss to his forehead. Colby smiled.

“Who could’ve been with her?” he asked. “That other woman?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Corey packed away the board and candles. Elton turned to them with his camera in his hands, and they began their trek back to the road.

“What if Marcus was with her?” Sam suggested quietly. “We met after I’d finished speaking to her. As far as I know, he was the last to see her alive.”

“You think he made her jump?”

“Maybe?”

“Why would he care about her, though? She was just…” Colby shrugged. “Just a homeless woman.” He watched Sam look away from him and added, “Sorry. You know what I mean.”

Sam shook his head. “Colby, she had the Sight.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, listen. She was a seer. And we know Marcus was probably working on the Global Drug around that time, right?” Sam pulled his blanket tighter. “What if he asked something from her, and she refused?”

“You think he’d kill her for that?”   


“You don’t?” Sam began to count on his fingers: “Clara, accident or not. Willow. Taylor. How many victims makes a serial killer?”

Colby swallowed thickly. “So, we’re actually dealing with a deranged serial killer.”

“With… some type of magic.”

Because apparently, Marcus still had power even after being stripped of his magic. That was another can of worms Colby didn’t know how to open—or that he wanted to.

When they reached the road, Sam’s phone rang with a call. He tipped it to the side, so Colby could see the screen. Hailey. They shared a look. Sam ignored the call.

In the car, Colby received a phone call from her as well. His finger tapped against the top of the phone; why would she call both of them so close together? Maybe something was wrong.

Sam noticed his hesitation, apparently, because he made a decision for him.

“Hey,” Colby whined, taking the silenced phone back. “What if that was important?”

“I don’t care.”

“Sam.”

Sam didn’t look at him. “Remember she’s one person away from being a serial killer too.”

Colby chewed on his lip, looking from the phone to Sam and back again. He sighed and pocketed it.

••••••••••

When Hailey first entered her office that night, a yellow envelope laid innocently in the center of her desk. Inside was incriminating evidence: shocking photos of _Ruth_ —of all people—holding a gun in a forest, as well as a chilling statement letter written in a font that claimed the impossible, practically. All topped with a nice bow, laced in warning.

Minutes later, as she dialed each friend on her contact list, hoping someone would pick up before her nerves ate her brain alive, she stormed down the empty corridor, heels echoing in the silence, envelope trapped in her white knuckled fist. Sam, Colby, Corey, Reggie—even Jake ignored her calls! She knew they weren’t on great terms, but… there was still a flutter of hope that they’d pick up when she needed them. After the last ring fell flat and an answering machine picked up, she could feel her heart seize under the ache and anxiety. They were truly ignoring her, right when she could use an ear to talk to the most.

Outside was just as silent and eerie as inside. Soft fog rolled over the parking lot; wind whistled through the trees. She didn’t mean to come out so late. But her apartment was too stuffy with bad thoughts. She replayed her last conversation with Val and Jo, reflected on watching Sam and Colby walk away, with no chance of redemption, any chance she had, like it’s a stain on her mind. Perhaps it was.

Hailey uncurled her fingers from the envelope. She plucked the letter from inside and held it to the moonlight. Whoever wrote this had perfect handwriting; she imagined a woman. Or a clever man with spells at his disposal. The words dripped with passive aggressive accusations and dark paint that created the scene perfectly: a ritual in the basement of the church; three adults and a child; blood running down the porcelain skin of a little girl and splattering on the tile floor. They spelled it out perfectly: Hailey, the first to leave with something hugged her to chest, rushing out like she had a secret to hide. Casey, overlooking everything, not lifting a finger to stop it. Marcus, acting impulsively, like something dark had overtaken him. And Clara, a poor victim to it all.

She tried burning it. She watched, with broken satisfaction, as the flames sparked at her fingertips and swallowed the paper in fiery orange. But the clever man with spells at his disposal struck again: instead of the paper disintegrating and crumbling to the ground in a pile of ash, a new message with shimmering embers letters took its place on a layer of rugged charcoal.  _ Nice try, _ it read.  _ Can’t run that easily. _

And then the message washed away, as if she’d dumped a bucket of water on it. The original letter remained; untouched; seemingly invincible.

“Pretty night, huh?”

As if things couldn’t get any worse.

Marcus walked over to her, hands shoved in his pockets, smirk on his face. “I prefer fog over clear nights,” he continued, shrugging. “Maybe that’s the occult in me.”

“What are you doing here?” Hailey demanded. She hoped he didn’t hear the way her words hung with fatigue. She knew he did, though. Of course.

He chuckled. “Rough night? No, wait, rough _ week, _ right? Can’t imagine the day after the market went well.” He stopped in front of her, rocking on his heels, practically bouncing with excitement. “Tell me, how  _ pissed _ are they? Are you on speaking terms? Are you even  _ friends _ anymore—”

“This is yours, isn’t it?” Hailey interrupted, waving the paper in his face. If she heard him gloating any longer, she’d certainly snap.

“It is.”

“Why?”

Marcus shrugged. “How else will the witches know their High Priestess is a murderer? Oh, and there’s more where that comes from—” He pointed at the envelope with a smile— “so don’t think you can lock this away at home and it’ll be forgotten.”

“You killed her—”

“You loaded the gun for me, dear.”

Hailey shook her head in disbelief. “Have you been planning this all along?” she asked. “Is this why you came back to the city?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. While I have been planning for a while—” He moved closer— “I didn’t come back for you. Or Casey.”

She shifted back when he continued stepping toward her. He towered, looming over her, his shadow smothering her. Hailey’s hands curled into fists. She didn’t let herself falter, even though her stomach was in her throat.

“Then why?”

Marcus’ eyes may be different colors, but in this lighting, they shared the same thick layer of darkness. Hailey worried if she stared into them long enough, her soul would be swallowed up, lost forever.

“I can make you a deal,” he offered softly—she didn’t know he was capable of sounding so gentle. “You give me something, and I’ll make sure that letter and those photos never go public.”

“Why would you do that?”

Marcus’ lips twisted into a dreadful grin. “Because it’s fun seeing how far you’ll go to protect your precious reputation. That’s all you’ve ever been good at—saving yourself, even at the expense of others.”

Hailey glared. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? You kept the Clara secret to yourself, even though that meant lying to Ruth and her husband after all these years. You didn’t stop Casey during Colby’s trial all those months ago, because that would mean going against the coven. You would’ve been excommunicated for that.” Marcus hummed. “You lied to Sam and Colby, your best friends, just so they wouldn’t know how badly you fucked up!” He laughed. “Face it, Hailey. You run. You always run when things get bad. You’ll always choose yourself over other people. You’re  _ selfish,” _ he hisses.

“So, that’s why I’m giving you this offer. Because I know you’ll do it.”

Hailey snapped, “I’m  _ not _ selfish, and I’m not—”

“Bring me what your friends stole,” Marcus interrupted, face inches from hers. His voice wasn’t soft anymore. It’s sharp, rough around the edges, and made her skin crawl. “Tomorrow at midnight, here. In exchange, I’ll get rid of the evidence.” Marcus stepped back and offered his hand.

“Nobody needs to know.”

She wasn’t selfish.

But, admittedly, it’d be so much easier for all of this to just  _ go away. _

That wasn’t going to fix everything, though.

But it would be one last thing to worry about. And she needed less things to worry about.

Hailey chewed on her lip. Her eyes darted from Marcus to his hand and back again.

With a sigh, with her heart sinking with guilt, she shook his hand.

“Deal,” she whispered.

  
  


••••••••••

Around noon the next day, when Colby sat on his couch watching YouTube videos and Sam had just turned the water off from his shower, someone knocked on their door. Colby pushed his computer to the side and walked around the coffee table. As he went, he wondered who’d be knocking on their door at this time of day. None of their friends knocked. Hailey always did, but—Colby paused, hand inches from the doorknob. He glanced at the peephole before taking a quick look.

Just as he thought: Hailey stood in the hall, arms crossed over her chest, looking around impatiently, as if someone was about to catch her breaking a law.

Colby took a deep breath before swinging the door open. “Hey,” he said.

Hailey nodded. “Hello. May I come in?”

He hesitated, listening for any indication that Sam was nearby. The bathroom remained silent. Eventually, he nodded and stepped aside. “Give me a second,” he said, walking down the hall. He knocked on the bathroom door once before peeking in.

Sam had one towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hands, squeezing out excess water in his hair. He looked over when the door opened. “Hey there,” he said with a laugh.

Colby smiled. “Hey yourself. Listen, Hailey’s out here, so—” He looked around the bathroom— “make sure you come out looking decent.”   


Sam scoffed. “Looking decent,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t even have to try.”

“I know, that’s why I like you. For your decent looks.” Colby grinned when Sam rolled his eyes.

“What’s she doing here?” Sam asked quietly.

Colby shrugged. “No idea.”

“Kay. I’ll be out in a minute.”

With a nod, Colby pulled the door shut and returned to the living room. Hailey wasn’t on the couch like he’d been expecting. Instead, she stayed by the door, leaning against the bar with her arms still crossed over her chest. She looked as out of place as when they’d first become friends.

“So, what’s up?” Colby asked. He leaned against the wall across from her.

“I’m here for the contraband,” she answered firmly. “It needs to be dealt with by the coven.”

“Hailey, we already told you—”

“I don’t care what you told me. I'm a High Priestess—you don’t have a choice.”

Colby sighed. He wasn’t mad. His anger had drained out days ago. The hurt lingered, though. The sadness of a broken friendship. The longing, already, for how things used to be. “I remember when you didn’t like calling yourself that,” he muttered.

Hailey faltered, even though her shoulder remained stiff, chin high. But her eyebrows scrunched together, and he liked to think she felt the same nostalgia he did.

“Things have changed,” she replied.

“Were you ever going to tell us about Clara?”

She didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. Maybe if I could’ve figured out how.” Her chest heaved with a heavy sigh. “Would you have reacted differently?”

Colby shifted his weight; he refrained from pulling at his sleeves, even though his fingers itched for the fabric. “Probably not.”

Hailey hummed.

Down the hall, the bathroom door opened. Sam walked around the corner wearing a pair of sweats and pulling a hoodie over his head. It was from Colby’s early Now or Never line. The corner of Colby’s mouth curled into a smile when he saw him.

“Hey,” Sam said to Hailey shortly before turning to Colby.

“She’s here for the Global Drug.”

Sam sighed. “I figured.”

“Look, it shouldn’t be this hard.” Hailey huffed. “It’s not like either of you have any purpose for it.”

“Do you have a better reason for wanting it besides ‘I’m the boss’?” Sam asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Hailey opened and closed her mouth. She chewed on her lip. Sam and Colby shared a look. With a sigh, she reached into her purse. “I found this laying on my desk last night,” she explained quietly, pulling out a yellow envelope.

Colby grabbed it. He dumped its contents in his hand, but there was only one thing: a witness report, detailing the night Clara was killed. Whoever wrote this exposed Hailey for being there and involved. The corners of the paper were singed. Colby glanced at her; she avoided their eyes.

“So you’re trying to save yourself,” Sam realized.

“I’m trying to give myself more time to figure things out, yes.”

“You mean, to convince people that Marcus is wrong and you’re innocent?”

At the edge in his voice, Colby looked over. He watched the muscles in Sam’s jaw clench and unclench.

“There’s more going on than you realize,” Hailey snapped. “I know you and your friends have multiple bags of the drug. I’m only asking for yours.”

“Why ours?” Colby asked.

“Because…” Hailey paused. “Because I thought you’d be the most understanding.”   


Sam huffed an unamused laugh. “Remember when you tried erasing our memories, so that we’d forget the horrible thing you did a few years ago?”

“I  _ panicked. _ You all teamed up on me!”

“Hey,” Colby interrupted, nudging Sam back with his elbow. “I don’t want any fighting today.” Sam usually kept a level head about everything; Colby knew things were off if he was the one playing mediator.

Hailey looked between them. “If it means anything,” she began softly, “I really am sorry for how things went down. I shouldn’t have handled it like that.” Her gaze lingered on Sam. “Especially knowing how uncomfortable magic makes you,” she added to him.

“You didn’t just lie about Clara,” Sam said. “You lied when I asked if Rodrick was around during the undercover stuff. You didn’t back us up when he was going to—” He shook his head, waved his hand vaguely—“do something to Corey and me, I don’t know. You’re our friend; you’re supposed to have our back.”

“I’m also in a position of high power,” Hailey replied. “When it comes down to it, I’m magic. I’m a witch.” Her eyes flickered to Colby. “I have to choose their side, always.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s kind of what I signed up for.”

“You didn’t sign up to be High Priestess.”

Hailey sighed. She looked like she wanted to say more, but Sam suddenly disappeared around the corner. Colby guessed he was grabbing the drug bags.

“Is there any word on what’s going to happen to Rodrick?” Colby asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Will you tell us when there is?”

By the way her face shifted into an apologetic grimace, he knew the answer was no. Yet another thing reserved for only the "higher ups". He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Sam returned with two of the bags Colby smuggled out of the market a few nights ago. He handed them over hesitantly.

Hailey frowned. "Is this all?"

Colby shrugged. "I only grabbed these because they dropped them on the way out. If you want more, you'll have to go to Reggie and Jake. Though… I don't know how easily they'll hand it over." He shared a look with Sam.

"They're also still pissed," Sam explained. "Probably."

Hailey nodded slowly. "Right… of course." She reached for the bags. "Thank you for these.

She stared like she considered actually keeping them or not. Colby wondered what was going through her head. He wondered where the envelope came from. There were so many questions with her. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask yet.

“I’ll, um…” Hailey nodded at them. “I’ll see you guys around.”  
Sam and Colby watched her leave. The silence in her wake was so loud. When the door shut, they were alone again, and Colby’s shoulder slumped.

“I want to go back a week,” he admitted quietly. “Before we ever found out about Clara.”

Sam looped his arm around Colby’s and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I know,” he breathed. “Me too.” He kissed his temple. “Come on, love.” Sam tugged Colby toward the film room. “We have work to do.”

Colby let Sam drag him away, mind swimming with too many thoughts.

A switch flipped, and they left their supernatural lives at the door.


	25. ruth

When Ruth arrived at the coven that afternoon, things were quiet. Nobody knew, she thought. Reassured. How could anyone know? _She_ barely remembered. Ever since that night, there’d been a numbness in her mouth, wiping away the taste from her meals, incinerating any words she might’ve conjured to communicate with her husband. But her husband was quiet too. The world itself didn’t speak, as if holding its breath in waiting for her other shoe to drop.

The door to her office wasn’t shut all the way; she could hear Hailey’s heels echoing down the hallway, quick and determined. Ruth didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she watched the blur of the High Priestess pass, and then she sighed with relief.

Minutes later, her door actually opened. Colby Brock stood just inside the room, eyes glued to his phone. He nudged the door shut behind him and said, “Hey.”

Ruth paused. She glanced down at an old Book of Shadows in her lap—from her early years of magic—before closing it. “Hello,” she replied, laying the book in the window. “Still coming to magic lessons, hm?”

Colby huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Don’t want Rodrick on my ass again.”

“But Rodrick’s not currently in power.” Now _he_ paused, mid-step, mid-putting away his phone in his back pocket. Ruth continued, “At least, not until his investigation is finished. Did you hear? He was supposedly working with Marcus on a project.”

“Oh, yeah.” He shifted his weight. “Hailey told me.”

“Colby, why do you come in for lessons? Is it because you still enjoy magic?”

He might be the first to notice something wrong—she guessed by the way his eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned at her. But he didn’t mention it. “Yeah; it’s fun to me. Helpful, too.” He gestured to the bracelet on his wrist; she hadn’t noticed it before. “I feel like I can keep the ones I love safe.”

“But if you weren’t involved in magic, you wouldn’t need a reason to keep them safe.”

“Depends on the person.” He chuckled. “Sam’s got a bad habit of getting into trouble, and there’s hardly ever any magic involved.” Squinting at her, as if he’d be able to pick out her underlying issues, he asked, “Ruth, is everything okay?”

Instead of answering—because she really doesn’t think she’s capable of answering truthfully, but he doesn’t deserve a lie; he didn’t do anything wrong—she gave him a tight lipped smile and gestured to the couch. “Let’s just begin our lesson, hm?”

Hours passed working on spells and techniques. They end their session with a hydrokinesis trick she remembered showing him early in their meetings. She loved that spell; it was peaceful and simple. She could play with a water spout all day long, so entranced with the thousands of droplets clinging together and whirling around that she’d forget about everything else. Across the table, Colby’s water spout mirrored her own; they moved with each other, swaying side to side like a snake. He didn’t notice her watching—there was a light in his eyes too bright to see anything besides his creation.

That’s it, she realized. _That’s_ how she knew he still enjoyed magic: the spark of curiosity and excitement was still there. Despite everything he’d been through, he himself had never dulled.

Ruth’s gaze fell back to her own magic. All she saw was a means of distraction.

Colby paused next to the couch before he left for the day. “Ruth?” he asked, almost hesitant.

“Hm?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight, he told her, “Thank you, for teaching me these past few months. I know that couldn’t have been easy with… Clara, and everything.”

Something rotten settled in her mouth that she couldn’t swallow down. She wanted to smile, to thank _him_ for being an excellent student and for giving her a reason to give magic another try, but then she remembered why she even came back in the first place, and her stomach turned with foul betrayal.

“Colby,” she said carefully, hesitating on every syllable because there were a lot of thoughts running through her head in that moment, an internal battle between her brain and her heart, and she didn’t want things to end like this. “Sit down.”

There were multiple differences between this Colby and the one she met back in April. The main, she thought, was the caution tainting his every move, the shoulders always just a little too tense, the eyes sweeping over like he’s looking for threats. And that might be the thing that hurt the worst for her.

“What’s up?” he asked softly.

Colby wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting when Marcus first told her about him. Marcus didn’t mention how kind he actually was toward everyone he met, how he liked to joke about everything, how he loved Sam and the rest of his friends _so much_ that he spent hours dueling Ruth—who certainly didn’t go easy on him—just so he could stand a chance against the rest of the supernatural world.

“I need to tell you something,” she replied, just as soft. She’d told herself, days before returning to the coven, that this was all business. She only agreed to help Marcus, so that she could help him make sure what happened to Clara never happened to anyone ever again. She wasn’t supposed to get attached to anyone, but…

But she’d grown attached to Marcus, too. And Hailey. How could you not? That spark in a young witch’s eye was astonishing—and watching it flourish captivated her. In the back of her mind, she may have always known Colby would be no different.

“About me,” she said, and her breath caught on her next words, and she looked away from him, because as hard as this was, she couldn’t stand watching that spark crumble before her, “and Marcus.”

••••••••••

A loud apartment wasn’t what Colby wanted to come home to. He almost considered turning on his heel and storming back down to his car when he saw Jake filming with Corey, Sam, and Reggie. Not that it would’ve really mattered—they were background noise to him.

Ruth… had been working with Marcus this whole time. _Ruth_ was working with Marcus. He was the reason she came back to teaching—to keep an eye on _Colby!_ And to report back to Marcus! What the _fuck?_ He didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt. He didn’t know how to feel at all; it came out of nowhere like a punch to the face. And what she left behind was a dull buzz in his ears.

He didn’t notice Sam walking over, so the grip on his wrist was warm and startling, and Colby flinched. “Hey,” Sam greeted, tugging him closer. “Colby?”

Chewing on his lip, Colby watched the guys over Sam’s shoulder. They were still filming, but whenever the camera panned off of them, they’d glance over.

“Think I’m gonna go lay down,” Colby said quietly. When he tried stepping around Sam, the grip on his arm held strong.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked. He reached a hand up to brush Colby’s bangs to the side.

Colby shook his head. “I’m just tired.” Tearing his arm away, he pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s hair before brushing past. He nodded at his friends when he caught their eye, and then he disappeared in his bedroom.

He’d just changed into a pair of sweats when Sam came in. Colby listened for their friends’ voices, but they disappeared. 

As he watched Sam slip his shoes off, he spotted blue on his wrist; sadness, he supposed. Maybe he did feel sad, but that wasn’t all, he’s sure. Embarrassed, more like, for trusting her in the first place. Angry that she’s getting away with it… Pissed that he actually let himself get attached. He told himself in the beginning that magical people were bad news—he knew firsthand with Casey. And then with Rodrick. How could he have been so stupid?

Sam didn’t ask when Colby curled into his side, but Colby told him anyway. And Sam kept him close, his hold tightening with every sentence. They aired their feelings, accompanied every complaint with a swear word.

“That place has shitty people,” Sam said. “Think you should join San Diego’s coven.”

“Can’t. They don’t have a good track record with seers.”

“I don’t think California witches in _general_ have good relations with seers.” Sam shrugged. “But I’m not the issue here.”

“You’re _always_ the issue.”

Sam made a noise of protest. Colby laughed, snuggling into his chest. “Says the one whose two witchy friends have both turned out to betray us,” Sam argued.

“First of all, Ruth betrayed _me._ Second of all, Hailey is your friend, too. And, from what I understand, you guys were actually closer because of that movie marathon night.”

“You could’ve joined us if you hadn’t stayed with _Brennen.”_

“Wouldn’t have stayed with Brennen if you hadn’t done something _stupid.”_

“Okay.” Sam chuckled, waving his hand to cut off the conversation. “We’re getting _very_ off topic here.”

Colby pushed himself up, propped on his elbow to hover over Sam. “Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hm?”

“If you could give up your Sight, would you?”

Sam squinted at him. He huffed a laugh. “Where’d that come from?” Colby shrugged. Sam looked at him weird, but then his eyes rolled to the ceiling, and Colby knew he was at least considering it. “I don’t know.”

“Few months ago, you would’ve said yes. What changed?”

“I don’t know if I could ever go back to seeing the world for what it used to be.”

“But you’ve had _so many_ nightmares about it. You’re weird about sleeping anywhere that isn’t here. You have to constantly ask if who you’re seeing is alive or not—”

“And you think any of that would change if I suddenly didn’t have it anymore?” Sam shook his head, the corner of his mouth curving into a weak smirk. “Nah, the damage is done. Don’t know if there’d be a point getting rid of it.”

“Of course there is! You wouldn’t see dead people anymore; they wouldn’t bother you, either. You probably wouldn’t have that.” Colby reached across Sam to point at the sigils down his arms. “Or the power that goes with it. Wouldn’t that just be easier?”

“What does it matter?” Sam replied with a surprising edge to his voice. “It’s not possible anyways.”

Colby watched him for a second before looking away. “Sorry. I was just… wondering if magic is actually worth the trouble too.”

“I think magic is. It’s the people that suck.”

“The people kind of come with it.”

Sam hummed. “They don’t have to. Maggie isn’t a part of a coven, is she? She’s living her best life in Salem—of all places!—with a _seer_ who’s about to become her _husband,_ and the witch council hasn’t come after _her_ yet.”

“Maybe things are just different in California.”

“What, like laws for different states?” Sam laughed. “I don’t think it works that way. Maybe things are just different in L.A. because of _someone_ they couldn’t get a handle on..”

“Do you think we would’ve trusted Marcus in the beginning had we met him before we’d heard the rumors?”

Sam shook his head. “I knew him as Matt, and I _still_ didn’t like him. Besides, there’s something _actually_ wrong with him. The witch council said they took all of his magic, so where did he get _more_ from?”

“Maybe it didn’t actually work, you know? Maybe he did something like Casey did to avoid death the first time.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sounded like maybe he _did_ know, though. At least, maybe, had an idea. Colby frowned at him.

“What’re you thinking?”

“That he might be possessed.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Sam sat up suddenly. Colby pushed himself up too, crossing his legs under him and sitting close enough for their knees to touch. Sam continued, “Okay, remember a few weeks ago when Marcus called me out of the blue and told me about how we actually met last year?” Colby nodded. “He said that, shortly after meeting me, he did something he shouldn’t have.” Sam shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable as he played with his hands. “Something that wasn’t _him.”_

“… What does that mean?”

“I think he talked to Willow about something after I left. And then, I don’t know, she made him mad? And then he spelled her into jumping off the bridge?”

Colby blinked. “Holy shit.”

“I know how we can figure it out.”

“You do?”

Sam shrugged. “Jake and Reggie still have a few bags of the supernatural drug. What else are they going to do with it?”

“I don’t think taking one of those just to see if Marcus is possessed is worth all that trouble that Jake went through.”

“But I already have the Sight. I don’t think it would be as bad, if at all.”

“I don’t think you should be risking anything for _Marcus.”_

“Whether we like it or not, we’re still on his radar. Don’t you think we should at least know what we’re up against?” Colby rolled his eyes. Sam tried again, “It’ll be over in a day.”

“Yeah, and what if you get addicted like Jake?”

Sam chewed his lip. “I don’t know if… the drug was completely at fault for his addiction. Besides—” Sam reached for his hand, smiling softly— “you have my back if things go wrong, right?”

Colby huffed. How did they turn out like this, Sam being the one taking risks while Colby lingered behind, making sure he didn’t get hurt?

“If you’re taking it, I’m taking it,” he decided.

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

Colby nodding, intertwining his fingers with Sam’s. “Think it’s about time we start doing things together again, huh?”

Sam smiled. “Sam and Colby against the world?”

“Both normal and occult.”

They smiled at each other, hands clasped between them, then Colby leaned forward to kiss him softly. One kiss turned into two, and then five, and then he was crawling forward, losing himself in Sam. Forgetting everything else.

••••••••••

Casey’s former, self-chosen right hand man Thomas stormed through the office doors in a frenzy, constantly checking over his shoulder as if something was following him. He had a piece of paper clutched in his fist, crumpled and trapped by white knuckles. Hailey watched with a raised eyebrow. 

“I have reason to believe we’re on the brink of war,” was the first thing he told her.

“War,” she repeated, huffing a laugh. “What makes you so sure?”

 _“This.”_ He slammed the paper down in front of her. “A few days after a werewolf pack was supposedly slaughtered in the mountains, this shows up. Coincidence?”

Hailey reached for the photograph hesitantly. That couldn’t be… No. No, Marcus promised nothing in that envelope would go public. Yet, there it was: a grainy image of Ruth in a forest, gun in her hand, rage and hurt written across her face. But that… didn’t mean anything, right?

“How do you know a werewolf pack was killed?” Hailey asked carefully.

Thomas frowned. “An old member of the coven came in yesterday with the claim. How is it you didn’t hear about that, High Priestess?”

Choosing to ignore the mocking tone, Hailey narrowed her eyes at him. “Old member of the coven? Who?”

Behind Thomas, because he forgot to shut the door, the universe gave Hailey her answer: a tall light skinned man with dark brown hair and eyes to match stalking toward her office. Last time she saw him, he was smiling, always friendly with people; there wasn’t a smile on his face that day. Instead he glared, hands clenched into fists at his sides, jaw set like he’s ready for a fight.

Hailey jumped to her feet. “Nath—Nathan?” 

Nathan, Casey and Marcus’ third roommate? Nathan, who left the coven when Marcus did and never looked back? Nathan, who now lives somewhere in the forest where—

Where Sam and Colby stayed the night, filming. Where the werewolves were killed.

Hailey glanced between him and Thomas. “Give us some privacy?” she asked, throwing a knowing look at Thomas.

Thomas returned her look with a glare, but she didn’t know who it was aimed at exactly. He backed into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind him.

“So,” Nathan began, lingering by the door, “High Priestess now, huh? I always thought that’d be Casey’s job.”

“It used to be, but now it’s mine.”

“What happened to him?”

“Dead.”

Nathan nodded slowly. Every action he made was stiff. His magic levels weren’t as high as she expected them to be; maybe he really did give up practicing, just like he said he would.

“Lot of people are dying under your watch, Hailey, you know? Hell, Marcus might’ve done a better job.”

“Marcus is the _reason_ people are dying.”

“Well, I know _he_ wasn’t the one with a gun near my house the night my girlfriend and the rest of her pack was _murdered,”_ he hissed, spitting enough acidic hate to melt through her bones.

Hailey held a hand out, subconsciously trying to calm him down. “Nathan,” she tried. “Listen, I know you’re mad, okay? I know. None of this ever should have happened.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m handling it.”

_“How?”_

Hailey opened and closed her mouth, chewed on her lip, tried figuring out the right thing to say. Should she lie? Tell him the one responsible would face just as harsh of a punishment? Or should she try forcing him out? Give him the old “it’s none of your business; the council is handling it”? Perhaps not; that never worked out in her favor.

But then his eyes fell to the wrinkled paper spread out on the desk.

And it wouldn’t matter what she told him, because he saw the culprit’s _face,_ and he recognized her immediately, she knew, because vengeance clouded his eyes like cataracts. Her stomach leapt to her throat. Nathan turned on his heel and stormed down the hall.

“Nathan!” Hailey cried, racing after him. She threw the door open with enough force to slam it against the wall. “Nathan, _stop.”_

He didn’t even slow down. “Is she still in the same room?” he called over his shoulder. “At the end of the hall?”

Hailey grit her teeth. She managed to catch him before he reached Ruth’s room, but he moved too quickly. With a blade hidden halfway in his sleeve, he pinned her to the wall, not even sorry when her head bounced against the concrete and she inhaled sharply in pain. He pressed the knife to her neck, breaking the skin and drawing blood without so much as a blink.

“What happened to you?” Hailey found herself asking quietly. “You didn’t use to be like this.”

Nathan leaned forward until his face hovered inches from hers. “Someone _murdered_ my girlfriend in _cold blood,”_ he hissed. “That fucks with a person, especially knowing that nothing will come of it. You’re protecting her, Hailey. You knew all along that this hag killed people, and you didn’t say _anything.”_

“It wasn’t cold blood, Nath. Your girlfriend and her pack _attacked_ Ruth’s student in the forest. Almost killed him.”

 _“Almost,”_ Nathan spat. “Almost killed him. He’s still alive—”

“But her daughter _isn’t,”_ Hailey stressed. “Remember? Clara was killed by werewolves. The 29th was the anniversary.” Nathan didn’t respond. He tightened his grip on the knife, but she could feel the faintest tremble in his hand. “Nathan, listen to me: _Ruth was set up._ By Marcus. He sent your girlfriend and her pack after Ruth’s student to trigger her for this.”

“It’s true.”

Hailey gasped, eyes darting to the right. Nathan looked over as well, confused, but his grip never loosened. Colby stood a few feet away, hands at his side, tense, just as ready for a fight as Nathan, probably. Beside him was Sam, one hand clutching the backpack strap on his shoulder as he squinted at Nathan thoughtfully.

“I was separated from my friends in the forest,” Colby continued. “When I ran into the werewolves, they talked like they knew me. Like they were expecting me.”

“Why the hell were you in the forest anyways?” Nathan spat. “It’s not a campground.”

“Think that was a setup too,” Sam admitted. As he stepped forward, still looking at Nathan like he’s a puzzle, he asked, “You’re Alley’s brother, right?”

“Sam,” Colby muttered, throwing an arm out to stop him.

“Look, it’s a long story,” Hailey said, drawing Nathan’s attention again. “I’m not trying to say what Ruth did was right or what happened to the wolves is justified, but nothing is black and white. It’s not that easy. There are gray spots that we’re still trying to figure out.” She dared reach a hand out and press a hand to his shoulder, shoving him away. When he complied and the knife disappeared from her neck, she tried not to make a big deal out of being able to breathe easy again. “But I _am_ handling this. I’m not protecting her, okay? I’m just… trying to figure out what to do. I promise, she’s going to get what she deserves.”

“Marcus, too?” Nathan asked quietly.

Hailey straightened her shoulders. “That one,” she said firmly, jaw set, “I can swear on my life.”

Nathan nodded slowly. He stumbled back, pocketing his knife while running a hand through his hair. Hailey lingered on the wall; Sam and Colby stayed rooted in their spots, on guard and cautious.

“I thought when I left, I was done,” Nathan muttered. “Then I find out that the bastard has gotten in contact with my sister, and now he's killed my girlfriend.” He shook his head in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“Well, we have a few ideas…” Colby admitted.

Sam elbowed him. “Shh.”

Hailey stepped up to Nathan, hesitantly reaching to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. He seemed surprised by her action, but he didn’t pull away.

“Nathan,” she said softly, “I am _so_ sorry for your loss. I’m sorry he’s still fucking with your life, even years later. I wish, with everything in me, that none of this had ever happened. If I could go back and change things, I would.” She glanced at Sam and Colby. “In a heartbeat.”

Nathan chewed his lip. He pulled her into a hug then, tighter than he’s ever held her before. Hailey squeezed him back, because she knew he needed a hug, but she didn’t realize until that moment how much she needed one too.

Minutes passed, and then it was just the three of them in the hallway. Hailey turned to Ruth’s door slowly, fingers brushing over the dried streaks of blood on her neck. Unable to tear her gaze from the door, she asked, “Why are you two here anyways?’

Colby laughed sheepishly. “Would you believe we’re here to return a book?”

“No.”

“Well, we are,” Sam answered. “He stole it a few weeks ago.”

Hailey nodded, finally looking over to give them a soft smile. “Then, you’d better hurry. I know you don’t want to be in here longer than you have to.”

Colby rocked on his heels. “What was all of that about?”

“Marcus didn’t keep up his end of the deal. People are discovering the werewolf attack, and there are pictures that put Ruth there.” Hailey sighed heavily. “Maybe I was protecting her, but… I can’t anymore.”

“What’re you going to do?” Sam asked.

Hailey shook her head. “I don’t know.”

But she couldn’t continue delaying the inevitable. Somebody had to be responsible for this. Somebody had to pay; she promised Nathan.

When Hailey pushed open the study door, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Any other moment, she would’ve smiled at them joining her again—she missed them—but her mind was both too fuzzy and too focused on what would happen next to notice.

Ruth’s room was empty.

Hailey stopped in the middle. “She’s usually still here,” she said, frowning. “It’s too early for her to go home.”

“She was acting weird earlier,” Colby told her. “Maybe she was feeling sick or something.”

Great, so Hailey would have to fret over Ruth’s fate for another twenty-four hours. A good thing, maybe—it would give her more time to figure out what exactly should happen—but more time meant more worrying and more nerves to make her sick to her stomach.

“Guys.”

Hailey and Colby turned to Sam, who stared at the rocking chair with red eyes. Hailey’s heart plummeted.

“What?” she asked, hesitantly.

Sam frowned, like whatever information he was gathering confused him. “She left.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Colby said.

“No, I mean she left the _city._ State?” Sam squinted, then nodded. “State.”

Hailey crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought Clara couldn’t speak.”

“She—Not well.” Sam looked at them with a grimace. “Her voice is all garbled and scratchy. She prefers not speaking, but this is important.”

“Does she know where Ruth went?”

Sam’s eyes drifted back to the chair. After a moment, he shook his head. “She said she’d barely been dealing with the guilt from the last few years, but today was her last straw.”

“What happened today?” Hailey asked, but she received no answer.

“Clara says Ruth left a…” Sam looked around, then brushed past Hailey to a book on the coffee table: a Book of Shadows Hailey remembered flipping through when she first began taking lessons. Sam plucked a piece of paper from just inside the cover. It was folded in half with something scribbled across the front. “A note,” he said, looking at them. “For Colby.”

“I didn’t even tell her what really happened with Clara,” Hailey realized quietly as Colby took the note. She hugged herself. “She’ll never know the truth, and it’s all my fault.” Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away as quick as she could, but a few managed to slip by and run down her cheeks. Hailey turned away from Sam and Colby, sniffing and wiping away the tears.

“Do you know where she went?” Colby asked.

Hailey looked back for an answer, but Sam shook his head sadly. She sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut as her vision blurred again. How could she leave? Just like that, no warning? No goodbye? Just disappeared into thin air, as if this place meant nothing.

She eyed Colby, who stared at the note but refused to open it. After a moment, he looked up at her. They held each other's gaze for a long time, and if they were on better terms, that might’ve been the moment they’d hug.

He must’ve thought the same, because in one swift motion he stepped forward, hooking one of her arms and pulling her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back instantly, relaxing into his hold, burying her face in his shoulder, and she hoped with everything in her that that meant they were okay again. That they were friends or, at least, on their way to it.

The lights suddenly began to flicker. A cold wind swept through the room, swirling around them like it wanted to join their hug, too. Hailey stepped away as a shudder rushed through her body. By the frown on Colby’s face, she guessed he felt it too.

“Sam?” Colby asked. He and Hailey turned to Sam, who was kneeling next to the rocking chair. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

When Sam rose to his feet and turned to them, Hailey was surprised to see him crying too. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Clara’s gone too,” he told them softly. “The last thing she needed to do here was tell us what happened. And she wanted me to tell you Hailey, um…” The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile. “She doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

Hailey blinked. “Huh?”

“She doesn’t blame Marcus, either. It was a misunderstanding, and a…” Sam looked away. “An issue somewhere that was out of your control. She told me to tell you to stop blaming yourself.” He smiled at her. “You’re too pretty and cool to doubt yourself like that.”

Hailey smiled back at him.

Too pretty and cool… doesn’t blame you for what happened… was a misunderstanding…

Her lip quivered.

“So,” she whispered, because suddenly her voice didn’t work well either, “she crossed over?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding. “She crossed over. She’s finally at rest. Maybe they both are.”

And that, that's when Hailey finally broke.


	26. read this!!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not an update, sorry. super important, though!!!

hi, i know it's been a reallyyyyy long time & i'm super sorry for that!!! i just wanted to let you guys know that i have _not_ forgotten about this story. not by a long shot. i'm finishing this no matter how long it takes lol 

i've reached the point where i don't have the end planned out yet, so i'm trying to figure things out, tie up loose ends, make sure everything makes sense & the story finishes how i want it to. it's _hard,_ haha.

sooooo my tentative return date (because i love planning things out lol) is **march 4th**. i know that's still a little over a month, but i want to have chapters prewritten and actually get ahead of the game because writing chapters in a week or two isn't cutting it for me. i'm going to do the same for a book i'm planning for another fandom—i'm just taking a month off altogether to get things figured out.

i know how frustrating it can be to wait for an update that you're not sure will ever come, so i wanted to get this out there as soon as i had an idea of when i could get back into things. so if you're still with me, great! thank you for the patience! if you kinda gave up on this story, that makes me sad, but i totally get it haha.

completing this series is a personal goal of mine. of course, i want to give you all a satisfying ending for sticking with me for so long (we're about to hit 2 years 😬), but i've never written anything like this before. this series was the first time i hit 100K words in general—twice was just an extra cherry on top—it's the first time i've written a novel series (the first book isn't novel length, but shut up, i'm counting it :)), so i'm finishing this, _no matter what._

hope you all stay until the end because there's still a lot to this story! thank you for your patience, and i'll see you in march! :)


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